But yet I fear thou wilt go near Thy father's heart and face to bear- I cannot choose but ever will Be loving to thy father still; But do not, do not, pretty mine, To feignings false thy heart incline! And never change her for a new: Bairn, by thy face I will beware; Farewell, farewell, the falsest youth A WOMAN'S LOVE Unknown A SENTINEL angel, sitting high in glory, A Woman's Love 1039 "I loved, and, blind with passionate love, I fell. Love brought me down to death, and death to Hell; For God is just, and death for sin is well. “I do not rage against His high decree, "Great Spirit! Let me see my love again And comfort him one hour, and I were fain To pay a thousand years of fire and pain." Then said the pitying angel, "Nay, repent But still she wailed, "I pray thee, let me go! The brazen gates ground sullenly ajar, But soon adown the dying sunset sailing, She sobbed, "I found him by the summer sea She wept, "Now let my punishment begin! I have been fond and foolish. Let me in To expiate my sorrow and my sin." The angel answered, "Nay, sad soul, go higher! John Hay [1838-1905] A TRAGEDY SHE was only a woman, famished for loving, And used to finger his fiddle-strings. Her heart's sweet gamut is cracking and breaking For a look, for a touch,-for such slight things; But he's such a very great musician Grimacing and fingering his fiddle-strings. Théophile Marzials [1850 "MOTHER, I CANNOT MIND MY WHEEL” MOTHER, I cannot mind my wheel; O, if you felt the pain I feel! No longer could I doubt him true- AIRLY BEACON AIRLY Beacon, Airly Beacon; O the pleasant sight to see Shires and towns from Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon; O the happy hours we lay Deep in fern on Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon; O the weary haunt for me, Charles Kingsley [1819-1875] From the Harbor Hill A SEA CHILD THE lover of child Marjory Had one white hour of life brim full; Hath him to lull. The daughter of child Marjory Hath in her veins, to beat and run, The glad indomitable sea, The strong white sun. Bliss Carman [1861 1041 FROM THE HARBOR HILL "Is it a sail?" she asked. "No," I said. "Only a white sea-gull with its pinions spread." "Is it a spar?" she asked. "No," said I. "Only the slender light-house tower against the sky." "Flutters a pennant there?" "No," I said. "Only a shred of cloud in the sunset red." "Surely a hull, a hull!” "Where?" I cried. "Only a rock half-bared by the ebbing tide." "Wait you a ship?" I asked. "Aye!" quoth she. "The Harbor Belle; her mate comes home to marry me. "Surely the good ship hath Met no harm?" Was it the west wind wailed or the babe on her arm? "The Harbor Belle!" she urged. Naught said I. For I knew o'er the grave o' the Harbor Belle the sea-gulls fly. Gustav Kobbé (1857 ALLAN WATER ON the banks of Allan Water, For his bride a soldier sought her, On the banks of Allan Water, When brown autumn spread his store, But she smiled no more. For the summer grief had brought her, On the banks of Allan Water, On the banks of Allan Water, But the miller's lovely daughter, On the banks of Allan Water, There a corse lay she. Matthew Gregory Lewis (1775-1818] FORSAKEN O WALY waly up the bank, And waly waly down the brae, And waly waly yon burn-side Where I and my Love wont to gae! |