XI THE MAID OF NEIDPATH O LOVERS' eyes are sharp to see, Can lend an hour of cheering. All sunk and dim her eyes so bright, By fits, a sultry hectic hue Across her cheek was flying; By fits, so ashy pale she grew, Yet keenest powers, to see and hear, Ere scarce a distant form was kenn'd, He came he passed-an heedless gaze, The castle arch, whose hollow tone SIR WALTER SCOTT. XII AIRLY BEACON AIRLY BEACON, Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon, Oh the happy hours we lay Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon, All alone on Airly Beacon, CHARLES KIngsley. XIII (ELOISA TO ABELARD) THOU know'st how guiltless first I met thy flame, When Love approach'd me under Friendship's name; My fancy form'd thee of angelic kind, Some emanation of th' all-beauteous Mind. Those smiling eyes, attempering every ray, ALEXANDER POPE. XIV BRIGHT star, would I were steadfast as thou art— Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite, Of snow upon the mountains and the moorsNo-yet still steadfast, still unchangeable, Pillowed upon my fair love's ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, Half passionless-and so swoon on to death. JOHN KEATS. XV DAFT JEAN DAFT JEAN, The waesome wean, She cam' by the cottage, she cam' by the ha', The laird's ha' o' Wutherstanelaw, The cottar's cot by the birken shaw; An' aye she gret, To ilk ane she met, For the trumpet had blawn an' her lad was awa'. "Black, black," sang she, "Black, black my weeds shall be, My love has widowed me! Black, black!" sang she. Daft Jean, the waesome wean, She cam' by the cottage, she cam' by the ha', The laird's ha' o' Wutherstanelaw, The cottar's cot by the birken shaw; Nae mair she creepit, Nae mair she weepit, She stept 'mang the lasses the queen o' them a'. The queen o' them a', The queen o' them a', She stept 'mang the lasses the queen o' them a', For the fight it was fought i' the fiel' far awa', An' claymore in han' for his love an' his lan', The lad she lo'ed best he was foremost to fa'. 66 'White, white," sang she, "White, white my weeds shall be, I am no widow," sang she, "White, white, my weeds shall be, White, white!" sang she. Daft Jean, The waesome wean, She gaed na' to cottage, she gaed na' to ha', But forth she creepit, While a' the house weepit, Into the snaw i' the eerie night-fa'. At morn we found her, The lammies stood round her, The snaw was her pillow, her sheet was the snaw; Pale she was lying, Singing and dying, A' for the laddie who fell far awa'. "White, white," sang she, 'My love has married me, White, white my weeds shall be, White, white my wedding shall be, SYDNEY DOBELL XVI EDITH AND HAROLD I KNOW it will not ease the smart ; |