LXXIII

LOVE'S GOOD-MORROW

PACK clouds away, and welcome day,
With night we banish sorrow;
Sweet air blow soft, larks mount aloft,
To give my love good-morrow.
Wings from the wind to please her mind,
Notes from the lark I'll borrow;
Bird prune thy wing, nightingale sing,
To give my love good-morrow,
Notes from them both I'll borrow.

Wake from thy nest, robin-red-breast,
Sing birds in every furrow;
And from each hill let music shrill
Give my fair love good-morrow.
Blackbird, and thrush, in every bush,
Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow !
You pretty elves, among yourselves,
Sing my fair love good-morrow.
To give my love good-morrow,
Sing birds in every furrow.

THOMAS HEYWOOD.

LXXIV

THE SAILOR'S RETURN

HIGH over the breakers,

Low under the lee,

Sing ho

The billow,

And the lash of the rolling sea!

Boat, boat, to the billow,
Boat, boat to the lee !
Love, on thy pillow,

Art thou dreaming of me?

Billow, billow, breaking,

Land us low on the lee !
For sleeping or waking,

Sweet love, I am coming to thee!

High, high, o'er the breakers,

Low, low, on the lee,

Sing ho!

The billow

That brings me back to thee!

SYDNEY DObell.

LXXV

THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY

CHORUS.

BONNY lassie, will ye go, will ye go, will ye go, Bonny lassie, will ye go to the Birks of Aberfeldy?

Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,

And o'er the crystal streamlet plays,
Come let us spend the lightsome days
In the Birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonny lassie, etc.

While o'er their heads the hazels hing,
The little birdies blythly sing,

Or lightly flit on wanton wing

In the Birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonny lassie, etc.

The braes ascend like lofty wa's,
The foaming stream deep roaring fa's,
O'erhung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The Birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonny lassie, etc.

The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers,
White o'er the linns the burnie pours,
And rising, weets wi' misty showers
The Birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonny lassie, etc.

Let fortune's gifts at random flee,
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me,
Supremely blest wi' love and thee
In the Birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonny lassie, etc.

ROBERT BURNS.

LXXVI

LOVE within the lover's breast
Burns like Hesper in the West,
O'er the ashes of the sun,

Till the day and night are done;

Then, when dawn drives up his car

Lo! it is the morning star.

Love! thy love pours down on mine,
As the sunlight on the vine,

As the snow rill on the vale,
As the salt breeze on the sail;
As the song unto the bird
On my lips thy name is heard.

As a dewdrop on the rose
In thy heart my passion glows;
As a skylark to the sky,

Up into thy breast I fly;

As a sea-shell of the sea

Ever shall I sing of thee.

GEORGE MEREDITH.

LXXVII

THE nightingale has a lyre of gold,

The lark's is a clarion call,

And the blackbird plays but a boxwood flute,

But I love him best of all.

For his song is all of the joy of life,
And we in the mad spring weather,

We too have listened till he sang

Our hearts and lips together.

WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY.

LXXVIII

CLAUD HALCRO'S SONG

FAREWELL to Northmaven,
Gray Hillswicke, farewell!
To the calms of thy haven,
The storms on thy fell-
To each breeze that can vary
The mood of thy main,
And to thee, bonny Mary!
We meet not again.