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“How can I busk a bonny bonny bride, “But who the expected husband, husband llow can I busk a winsome marrow!
is ? How lo'e him on the banks of Tweed His hands, methinks, are bath'd in That slew my love on the braes of Yarrow! slaughter.
Ah me! what ghastly spectre's yon, "Oh, Yarrow fields ! may never, never Comes, in his pale shroud, bleeding, after?
rain, Nor dew thy tender blossoms cover,
“Pale as he is, here lay him, lay him For there was vilely kill'd my love,
down, My love as he had not been a lover! Oh, lay
his cold head on my pillow !
Take aff, take aff these bridal weeds, “The boy put on his robes, his robes of And crown my careful head with yellow.
green, His purple vest, 'twas my ain sewing :
“Pale tho' thou art, yet best, yet best Ah i wretched me, I little, little knew,
belov’d, He was in these to meet his ruin.
Oh, could my warmth to life restore thee, “The boy took out his milk-white, milk. No youth lay ever there before thee.
Ye 't lie all night between my breasts : white steed, Unheedful of my dule and sorrow, But ere the toofal of the night,
“Pale, indeed, oh, lovely, lovely youth ! He lay a corpse on the braes of Yarrow. Forgive, forgive so foul a slaughter,
And lie all night between my breasts, “Much I rejoic'd that woeful, woeful No youth shall ever lie there after.”
day, I sung, my voice the woods returning ; Return, return, oh, mournful, mournful But lang ere night the spear was flown bride! That slew my love, and left me mourning. Return and dry thy useless sorrow :
Thy lover heeds naught of thy sighs, " What can my barbarous, barbarous He lies a corpse on the braes of Yarrow!
father do, But with his cruel rage pursue me ? My lover's blood is on thy spear; How canst thou, barbarous man, then woo me?
(ANONYMOUS. 1926.) “My Łappy sisters may be, may be WHY, LOVELY CHARMER.
proud; With cruel and ungentle scoffing,
The Hive. May bid me seek on Yarrow's braes My lover nailed in his coffin.
Why, lovely charmer, tell me why,
So very kind, and yet so shy? “My brother Douglas may upbraid,
Why does that cold forbidding air And strive with threat'ning words to move
Give damps of sorrow and despair ? me;
Or why that smile my soul subdue, My lover's blood is on thy spear,
And kindle up my flames anew ? How canst thou ever bid me love thee?
In vain you strive, with all your art, “ Yes, yes, prepare the bed, the bed of By turns to fire and freeze my heart : love,
When I behold a face so fair, With bridal sheets my body cover ; So sweet a look, so soft an air, Unbar, ye bridal maids, the door,
My ravish'd soul is charm'd all o'er,Let in the expected husband lover! I cannot love thee less or more.
The ethereal spirit o'er its leaves shsil (ANONYMOUS. 1726.)
move, UNHAPPY LOVE.
And on its top descends the mystic dove.
Ye heavens ! from high the dewy nectar I sex she flies me everywhere,
pour, Her eyes her scorn discover :
And in soft silence shed the kindly shower! But what's her scorn, or my despair, The sick and weak the healing plant shall Since 'tis my fate to love her ?
aid, Were she but kind whom I adore,
From storms a shelter, and from heat a I might live longer, but not love her more.
shade. All crimes shall cease, and ancient fraud
shall fail ; (ANONYMOUS. 1726.)
Returning Justice list aloft her scale ;
Peace o'er the world her olive wand ex. TILL DEATH I SYLVIA MUST tend, ADORE.
And white-robed Innocence from heaven
descend. Till death I Sylvia must adore ;
Swift fly the years, and rise the expected No time my freedom can restore;
morn! For though her rigour makes me smart,
Oh spring to light, auspicious Babe, be Yet when I try to free my heart,
born! Straight all my senses take her part.
See Nature hastes her earliest wreaths to
bring, And when against the cruel maid
With all the incense of the breathing I call my reason to my aid;
spring : By that, alas ! I plainly see
See lofty Lebanon his head advance, That nothing lovely is but she;
See nodding forests on the mountains And reason captivates me more.
dance : Than all my senses did before.
See spicy clouds from lowly Saron rise, And Carmel's flowery top perfumes the
Hark! a glad voice the lonely desert (ALEXANDER POPR. 1688—1744.)
cheers ; THE MESSIAH.
Prepare the way! a God, a God appears:
A God, a God! the vocal hills reply, A SACRED ECLOGUE: IN IMITATION
The rocks proclaim the approaching Deity. OF VIRGIL'S POLLIO.
Lo, earth receives him from the bending Ye nymphs of Solyma ! begin the song : skies ! To heavenly themes sublimerstrains belong. Sink down, ye mountains, and, ye valleys, The mossy fountains, and the sylvan
rise ; shades,
With heads declined, ye cedars, homage The dreams of Pindus and the Aonian
pay ; maids,
Be smooth. ye rocks ; ye rapid floods, Delight no more-0 Thou my voice give way, inspire
The Saviour comes! by ancient bards fore Who touched Isaiah's hallowed lips with told ! fire !
Hear him, ye deaf, and all ye blind, beRapt irto future times, the bard begun: hold ! A Virgin shall conceive, a Virgin bear a He from thick films shall purge the visual Son !
ray, From Jesse's root behold a branch arise, And on the sightless eyeball pour the day! Whose sacred Aower with fragrance fills | 'Tis he the obstructed paths of sound shall the skies :
And bid new music charm the unfolding To leafless shrubs the flowering palms
succeed, The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch And odorous myrtle to the noisome forego,
weed, And leap exulting like the bounding roe. The lambs with wolves shall graze the No sigh, no murmur the wide world shall verdant mead, hear,
And boys in flowery bands the tiger From every face he wipes off every tear. lead; In adamantine chains shall Death be The steer and lion at one crib shall bound,
meet, And Hell's grim tyrant feel the eternal And harmless serpents lick the pilgrim's wound,
feet. As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care, The smiling infant in his hand shall take Seeks freshest pasture and the purest The crested basilisk and speckled snake, air,
Pleased the green lustre of the scales Explores the lost, the wandering sheep survey, directs,
And with their forky tongue shall innoBy day o'ersees them, and by night pro- cently play. tects,
Rise, crown'd with light, imperial Salem, The tender lambs he raises in his arms,
rise ! Feeds from his hand, and in his bosom Exalt thy towery head, and lift thy eyes ! warms;
See, a long race thy spacious courts adorn; Thus shall mankind his guardian care See future sons, and daughters yet unborn, engage,
In crowding ranks on every side arise, The promised Father of the future age. Demanding life, impatient for the skies ! No more shall nation against nation rise, See barbarous nations at thy gates attend, Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend; eyes,
See thy bright altars throng'd with prosNor fields with gleaming steel be covered trate kings, o'er,
And heap'd with products of Sabean The brazen trumpets kindle rage no springs, more;
For thee Idume's spicy forests blow, But useless lances into scythes shall bend, And seeds of gold in Ophir's mountains And the broad falchion in a ploughshare glow. end.
See heaven its sparkling portals wide dis. Then palaces shall rise; the joyful son play, Shall 'finish what his short-lived sire And break upon thee in a flood of day. begun;
No more the rising sun shall gild the Their vines a shadow to their race shall morn, yield,
Nor evening Cynthia fill her silver horn; And the same hand that sow'd, shall reap But lost, dissolved in thy superior rays, the field.
One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze The swain, in barren deserts with surprise O'erflow thy courts; the Light himself See lilies spring, and sudden verdure rise; shall shine And start, amidst the thirsty wilds, to Reveal’d, and God's eternal day be thine! bear
The seas shall waste, the skies in smoke New falls of water murmuring in his ear. decay, On risted rocks, the dragon's late abodes, Rocks fall to dust, and mountains melt The green reed trembles, and the bulrush
away ; nods.
But fix'á 'his word, his saving power Waste sandy valleys, once perplex'd with remains; thorn,
Thy realm for ever lasts, thy ow. MESSIAH The spiry fir and shapely bor adorn ; reigns !
ODE ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY.
And men grew heroes at the sound,
Inflam'd with glory's charms: DESCEND, ye Nine ! descend and sing, Each chief his sev'nfold shield display'd, The breathing instruments inspire ;
And half unsheath'd the shining blade: Wake into voice each silent string,
And seas, and rock, and skies rebound; And sweep the sounding lyre !
To arms! to arms! to arms! In a sadly pleasing strain Let the warbling lute complain : But when through all the infernal bounds,
Let the loud trumpet sound, Which flaming Phlegethon surrounds, Till the roofs all around
Love, strong as Death, the poet led The shrill echoes rebound :
To the pale nations of the dead,
Hark! the numbers soft and clear O'er all the dreary coasts ?
Dismal screams, And fill with spreading sounds the Fires that glow, skies;
Shrieks of wo, Exulting in triumph now swell the bold
Sullen moans, notes,
Hollow groans, In broken air, trembling, the wild music And cries of tortured ghosts, floats
But hark! he strikes the golden lyre ; Till, by degrees, remote and small, And see ! the tortured ghosts respire, The strains decay,
See, shady forms advance ! And melt away
Thy stone, o Sisyphus, stands still, In a dying, dying fall.
Ixion rests upon his wheel,
And the pale spectres dance !
Not swell too high, nor sink too low; The Furies sink upon their iron beds,
By the fragrant winds that blow
In yellow meads of asphodel,
Or amaranthine bow'rs;
By the heroes' armed shades,
List'ning Envy drops her snakes, By the youths that died for love,
O, take the Husband, or return the Wife! But when our country's cause provokes to He sung, and Hell consented arms,
To hear the poet's prayer:
Thus song could prevail High on the stern the Thracian rais'd his O'er Death and o'er Hell, strain,
A conquest how hard, and how glorious! While Argo saw her kindred trees Though Fate had fast bound her, Descend from Pelion to the main, With Styx nine times round her, Transported demigods stood round, Yet Music and Love were victorious.
But soon, too soon, the lover turns his
EASE IN WRITING. eyes, Again she falls-again she dies — she True ease in writing comes from art, not dies!
chance, How wilt thou now the fatal sisters As those move easiest who have learned move?
to dance. No crime was thine, if 'tis no crime to 'Tis not enough no harshness gives love.
offence, Nɔw under hanging mountains, The sound must seem an echo to the Beside the falls of fountains, Or where Hebrus wanders,
Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently Rolling in meanders,
blows, All alone,
And the smooth stream in smoother Unheard, unknown,
rumbers flows; He makes his moan;
But when loud surges lash the sounding And calls her ghost,
shore, For ever, ever, ever lost !
The hoarse rough verse should like the Now with Furies surrounded,
torrent roar ; Despairing, confounded,
When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight He trembles, he glows,
to throw, Amidst Rhodope's snows :
The line too labours and the words move See, wild as the winds, o'er the desert he
Not so when swift Camilla scours the Hark! Hæmus resounds with the Bac- plain, chanals' cries—Ah see, he dies ! Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims
along the main, Yet ev'n in death Eurydice he sung, Hear how Timotheus' varied lays sur. Eurydice still trembled on his tongue, prise, Eurydice the woods,
And bid alternate passions fall and rise ! Eurydice the floods,
While at each change, the son of Libyan Eurydice the rocks, and hollow mountains Jove rung.
Now burns with glory and then melts Music the fiercest grief can charm,
with love ; And fate's severest rage disarm;
Now his fierce eyes with sparkling fury Music can soften pain to ease,
[flow: And make despair and madness please; Now sighs steal out, and tears begin to Our joys below it can improve, Persians and Greeks like turns of nature And'antedate the bliss above.
found, This the divine Cecilia found,
And the world's victor stood subdued by And to her Maker's praise confin'd the sound! sound,
The power of music all our hearts allow, When the full organ joins the tuneful And what Timotheus was, is Dryden now,
quire, Th' immortal pow'rs incline their ear Borne on the swelling notes our souls aspire,
ON VIRTUE. While solemn airs improve the sacred fire ;
Essay on Man. And angels lean from Heav'n to hear. Know thou this truth, enough for man Of Orpheus now no more let poets tell, to know, To bright Cecilia greater pow'r is giv'n; “ Virtue alone is Happiness below?"
His numbers rais'd a shade from Hell, The only point where human bliss stands Hers lift the soul to Heav'n.