Page images
PDF
EPUB
[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

YES! there are real mourners, I have seen A fair sad girl, mild, suffering, and serene; Attention (through the day) her duties claimed, And to be useful as resigned she aimed ; Neatly she drest, nor vainly seemed t' expect Pity for grief, or pardon for neglect ; But when her wearied parents sunk to sleep, She sought her place to meditate and weep; Then to her mind was all the past displayed, That faithful memory brings to sorrow's aid: For then she thought on one regretted youth, Her tender trust, and his unquestioned truth; In every place she wandered, where they'd been, And sadly-sacred held the parting scene, Where last for sea he took his leave; that place With double interest would she nightly trace!

Happy he sailed, and great the care she took That he should softly sleep and smartly look; White was his better linen, and his check Was made more trim than any on the deck; And every comfort men at sea can know Was hers to buy, to make, and to bestow : For he to Greenland sailed, and much she told, How he should guard against the climate's cold; Yet saw not danger; dangers he 'd withstood, Nor could she trace the fever in his blood.

His messmates smiled at flushings on his cheek, And he too smiled, but seldom would he speak; For now he found the danger, felt the pain, With grievous symptoms he could not explain. He called his friend, and prefaced with a sigh A lover's message, "Thomas, I must die; Would I could see my Sally, and could rest My throbbing temples on her faithful breast, And gazing go! if not, this trifle take, And say, till death I wore it for her sake: Yes! I must die-blow on, sweet breeze, blow on! Give me one look before my life be gone! O, give me that, and let me not despair!

[blocks in formation]

That awakens the night-song of mirth in your bower,

Then think of the friend who once welcomed it too,

One last fond look! - and now repeat the And forgot his own griefs, to be happy with you.

prayer."

He had his wish, had more: I will not paint The lovers' meeting; she beheld him faint, With tender fears, she took a nearer view, Her terrors doubling as her hopes withdrew; He tried to smile; and, half succeeding, said, "Yes! I must die" - and hope forever fled. Still, long she nursed him; tender thoughts

meantime

Were interchanged, and hopes and views sublime.
To her he came to die, and every day
She took some portion of the dread away;
With him she prayed, to him his Bible read,
Soothed the faint heart, and held the aching

head :

She came with smiles the hour of pain to cheer,
Apart she sighed; alone, she shed the tear;
Then, as if breaking from a cloud, she gave
Fresh light, and gilt the prospect of the grave.
One day he lighter seemed, and they forgot
The care, the dread, the anguish of their lot.
A sudden brightness in his look appeared,
A sudden vigor in his voice was heard
She had been reading in the Book of Prayer,
And led him forth, and placed him in his chair.
Lively he seemed, and spake of all he knew,
The friendly many, and the favorite few ;

but then his hand she prest, And fondly whispered, "Thou must go to rest.' “I go,” he said; but as he spoke, she found His hand more cold, and fluttering was the

sound;

Then gazed affrighted; but she caught a last, A dying look of love, and all was past!

His griefs may return not a hope may remain Of the few that have brightened his pathway of pain

But he ne'er can forget the short vision that threw Its enchantment around him while lingering with you!

And still on that evening when Pleasure fills up To the highest top sparkle each heart and each cup,

Where'er my path lies, be it gloomy or bright, My soul, happy friends! will be with you that night;

Shall join in your revels, your sports, and your wiles,

And return to me, beaming all o'er with your

smiles!

Too blest if it tell me that, mid the gay cheer, Some kind voice has murmured, "I wish he were here!"

Let Fate do her worst, there are relics of joy, Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot

destroy;

Which come, in the night-time of sorrow and care,

And bring back the features which joy used to

wear.

Long, long be my heart with such memories filled! Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled

You may break, you may ruin the vase, if you will,

But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.

THOMAS MOORE.

[graphic]
[blocks in formation]
[ocr errors]

LOVE'S MEMORY.

ROBERT BURNS.

FROM "ALL 'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL."

I AM undone there is no living, none, It were all one,

If Bertram be away.

That I should love a bright particular star,
And think to wed it, he is so above me :
In his bright radiance and collateral light
Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.
The ambition in my love thus plagues itself :
The hind that would be mated by the lion
Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague,
To see him ev'ry hour; to sit and draw
His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
In our heart's table, heart too capable

Of every line and trick of his sweet favor:
But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy
Must sanctify his relics.

SHAKESPEARE.

O, SAW YE BONNIE LESLEY?

O, SAW ye bonnie Lesley

As she gaed o'er the border?

She's gane, like Alexander,

To spread her conquests farther.

To see her is to love her,

And love but her forever; For nature made her what she is, And ne'er made sic anither!

Thou art a queen, fair Lesley, Thy subjects we, before thee; Thou art divine, fair Lesley,

The hearts o' men adore thee.

The deil he could na scaith thee, Or aught that wad belang thee; He'd look into thy bonnie face,

And say "I canna wrang thee !"

JEANIE MORRISON.

I'VE wandered east, I've wandered west, Through mony a weary way;

But never, never can forget

The luve o' life's young day!

The fire that's blawn on Beltane e'en
May weel be black gin Yule;
But blacker fa' awaits the heart
Where first fond luve grows cule.

O dear, dear Jeanie Morrison,
The thochts o' bygane years
Still fling their shadows ower my path,
And blind my een wi' tears:
They blind my een wi' saut, saut tears,
And sair and sick I pine,

As memory idly summons up

The blithe blinks o' langsyne.

'T was then we luvit ilk ither weel, 'T was then we twa did part;

Sweet time-sad time! twa bairns at scule, Twa bairns, and but ae heart!

'T was then we sat on ae laigh bink, To leir ilk ither lear;

And tones and looks and smiles were shed, Remembered evermair.

I wonder, Jeanie, aften yet,

When sitting on that bink,

Cheek touchin' cheek, loof locked in loof,
What our wee heads could think.
When baith bent doun ower ae braid page,

Wi' ae buik on our knee,

Thy lips were on thy lesson, but
My lesson was in thee.

O, mind ye how we hung our heads,
How cheeks brent red wi' shame,
Whene'er the scule-weans, laughin', said
We cleeked thegither hame?
And mind ye o' the Saturdays,

(The scule then skail't at noon,) When we ran aff to speel the braes, The broomy braes o' June?

[graphic]
« PreviousContinue »