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EMMY

EMMY's exquisite youth and her virginal air,
Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile,
Come to me out of the past, and I see her there
As I saw her once for a while.

Emmy's laughter rings in my ears, as bright,
Fresh and sweet as the voice of a mountain brook,
And still I hear her telling us tales that night,
Out of Boccaccio's book.

There, in the midst of the villainous dancing-hall,
Leaning across the table, over the beer,

While the music maddened the whirling skirts of the ball,
As the midnight hour drew near,

There with the women, haggard, painted and old,
One fresh bud in a garland withered and stale,
She, with her innocent voice and her clear eyes, told
Tale after shameless tale.

And ever the witching smile, to her face beguiled,
Paused and broadened, and broke in a ripple of fun,
And the soul of a child looked out of the eyes of a child,
Or ever the tale was done.

O my child, who wronged you first, and began
First the dance of death that you dance so well?
Soul for soul: and I think the soul of a man

Shall answer for yours in hell.

Arthur Symons [1865

THE BALLAD OF CAMDEN TOWN

I WALKED With Maisie long years back

The streets of Camden Town,

I splendid in my suit of black,
And she divine in brown.

Hers was a proud and noble face,
A secret heart and eyes
Like water in a lonely place

Beneath unclouded skies.

The Ballad of Camden Town 1059

A bed, a chest, a faded mat,

And broken chairs a few,

Were all we had to grace our flat

In Hazel Avenue.

But I could walk to Hampstead Heath,
And crown her head with daisies,
And watch the streaming world beneath,
And men with other Maisies.

When I was ill and she was pale
And empty stood our store,
She left the latchkey on its nail,
And saw me nevermore.

Perhaps she cast herself away

Lest both of us should drown: Perhaps she feared to die, as they Who die in Camden Town.

What came of her? The bitter nights
Destroy the rose and lily,

And souls are lost among the lights
Of painted Piccadilly.

What came of her? The river flows
So deep and wide and stilly,
And waits to catch the fallen rose
And clasp the broken lily.

I dream she dwells in London still
And breathes the evening air,
And often walk to Primrose Hill,
And hope to meet her there.

Once more together we will live,
For I will find her yet:

I have so little to forgive;

So much, I can't forget.

James Elroy Flecker (1884-1915]

LOVE AND DEATH

HELEN OF KIRCONNELL
I WISH I were where Helen lies,
Night and day on me she cries;
O that I were where Helen lies,
On fair Kirconnell lea!

Cursed be the heart that thought the thought,
And cursed the hand that fired the shot,
When in my arms burd Helen dropped,
And died to succor me!

O think na ye my heart was sair,

When my Love dropped and spak nae mair! There did she swoon wi' meikle care,

On fair Kirconnell lea.

As I went down the water side,
None but my foe to be my guide,
None but my foe to be my guide,
On fair Kirconnell lea;

I lighted down my sword to draw,
I hacked him in pieces sma',
I hacked him in pieces sma',
For her sake that died for me.

O Helen fair, beyond compare!
I'll mak a garland o' thy hair,
Shall bind my heart for evermair,
Until the day I dee!

O that I were where Helen lies!
Night and day on me she cries;
Out of my bed she bids me rise,
Says, "Haste, and come to me!"

Willy Drowned in Yarrow 1061

O Helen fair! O Helen chaste!
If I were with thee, I'd be blest,
Where thou lies low and taks thy rest,
On fair Kirconnell lea.

I wish my grave were growing green,
A winding-sheet drawn owre my e'en,
And I in Helen's arms lying,

On fair Kirconnell lea.

I wish I were where Helen lies!
Night and day on me she cries;
And I am weary of the skies,

For her sake that died for me.

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WILLY DROWNED IN YARROW

"WILLY's rare, and Willy's fair,
And Willy's wondrous bonny;
And Willy hecht to marry me,
Gin e'er he married ony.

"Yestreen I made my bed fu' braid,
This night I'll make it narrow;
For a' the livelang winter night
I lie twined of my marrow.

"Oh came you by yon water-side?
Pu'd you the rose or lily?

Or came you by yon meadow green?
Or saw you my sweet Willy?"

She sought him east, she sought him west,
She sought him braid and narrow;

Syne in the cleaving of a craig,
She found him drowned in Yarrow.

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ANNAN WATER

ANNAN Water's wading deep,

And my Love Annie's wondrous bonny; And I am laith she should wet her feet, Because I love her best of ony."

He's loupen on his bonny gray,

He rade the right gate and the ready; For all the storm he wadna stay,

For seeking of his bonny lady.

And he has ridden o'er field and fell,

Through moor, and moss, and many a mire; His spurs of steel were sair to bide, And from her four feet flew the fire.

"My bonny gray, now play your part!

If ye be the steed that wins my dearie, With corn and hay ye'll be fed for aye,

And never spur shall make you wearie."

The gray was a mare, and a right gude mare;
But when she wan the Annan Water,
She could not have ridden the ford that night
Had a thousand merks been wadded at her.

"O boatman, boatman, put off your boat, Put off your boat for golden money!" But for all the gold in fair Scotland,

He dared not take him through to Annie.

"Oh, I was sworn so late yestreen,
Not by a single oath, but mony!
I'll cross the drumly stream tonight,
Or never could I face my honey."

The side was stey, and the bottom deep,
From bank to brae the water pouring;
The bonny gray mare she swat for fear,

For she heard the water-kelpy roaring.

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