When on the tumbling billows rolling, To chase the moonbeams up the mountains Or dance with elves on brinks of fountains, Now seen with lovelorn lilies weeping, LEFTLY. FAIRY SONG. WOULD you the fairy regions see, And the chaffer's bugle our guide shall be. LEFTLY. TO THE WATERNYMPHS, ON DRINKING AT A FOUNTAIN. REACH with your whiter hands to me Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but this; And I shall see, by that one kiss, HERRICK. THE POPLAR. No watchdog disturb'd the calm season of rest, And the daybeams were faintly the mountain adorning; The night dew still hung on the eglantine's breast, And the shrill cock first broke the sweet silence of morning. To the haunts of his childhood, the scenes of his sport, A wanderer came in the stillness of sorrow, The magic of life's early vision to court, And the sweetest of hours from remembrance to borrow. But the field of his culture was dreary and wild, And drear were the bowers where the rose once was blowing; The dark weed had grown where the garden had [glowing. And a wilderness spread where late beauty was smiled, Yet one poplar survived, and was lofty and fair, 'Twas the pride of his youth, when its sun rose enchanting; And Affection had treasured his memory there, And had hallow'd his name on the tree of his planting. truth, youth, Unknown was the hand that thus witness'd its [beaming; Unknown was the heart with affection thus But the wanderer thought on the friend of his [were streaming. And his spirit was bless'd, though his tear-drops Thou flower of affection, entwining the heart, To deck the drear scene of our wanderings given; Thy balm to our grief can its healing impart, And thy blossoms of light caught their beauty from heaven. P. M. JAMES. THERE'S NAE LUCK ABOUT THE HOUSE. AND are you sure the news is true? And are ye sure he's weel? Is this a time to think of wark! Mak haste, lay by your wheel; For there's nae luck about the house, There's little pleasure in the house And gie to me my bigonet, My bishop's satin gown; For I maun tell the bailie's wife For there's nae luck, &c. Rise, lass, and mak a clean fire side, Gie little Kate her button gown, And mak their shoon as black as slaes, It's aw to please my ain gudeman, For he's been lang awa. For there's nae, &c. There's twa fat hens upo' the bauk Let every thing look braw, For wha can tell how Colin fared When he was far awa. Ah, there's nae, &c. Sae true his heart, sae smooth his speech, His breath like cauler air, His very foot has music in't As he comes up the stair! And shall I see his face again, And shall I hear him speak! For there's nae, &c. [The caul blasts of the winter wind, But why should I of parting tauk, It may be far awa; The present moment is our ain, For there's nae, &c. If Colin's weel, and weel content, And shall I see his face again, I'm downright dizzy wi the thought, For there's nae, &c. MICKLE. BACHELOR'S FARE. FUNNY and free are a bachelor's revelries, These lines enclosed between brackets were inserted by Dr. Beattie. VOL. III. R R |