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LOVE VERSES, BY THE MARQUIS OF MONTROSE.

Sometimes the jargon of the different governments of the day, and sometimes the technical phrases of warfare, are made strange use of in these verses; yet some of the lines are so noble, and many so original, that we forgive this soldierly mode of wooing in favour of its frankness. It is to be presumed the lady did the same.

My dear and only love, I pray

This noble world of thee,
Be governed by no other sway

Than purest monarchy.
For if confusion have a part,

Which virtuous souls abhor,
And hold a synod in thy heart,

I'll never love thee more.

Like Alexander I will reign,

And I will reign alone;
My thoughts shall evermore disdain

A rival on my throne.
He either fears his fate too much,

Or his desert's too small,
That puts it not unto the touch

To win or lose it all.

But I must rule and govern still,

And always give the law,
And have each subject at my will,

And all to stand in awe.

But 'gainst my battery if I find

Thou shunn'st the prize to bore,
Or that thou sett'st me up a blind,

I'll never love thee more.

Or in the empire of thy heart,

Where I would solely be,
Another do pretend a part,

And dares to vie with me;
Or if committees thou erect,

And gõest on such a score,
I'll sing and laugh at thy neglect,

And never love thee more.

But if thou wilt be constant then,

And faithful of thy word,
I'll make thee glorious by my pen,

And famous by my sword.
I'll serve thee in such noble ways

Was never heard before,
I'll crown and deck thee all with bays,

And love thee evermore.

Could it be in woman to resist such promises from such a man?

PART SECOND.

My dear and only love, take heed

Lest thou thyself expose,
And let all longing lovers feed

Upon such looks as those;

A marble wall, then, build about,

Beset, without a door,
But, if thou let thy heart fly out,

I'll never love thee more.

Let not their oaths, like volleys shot,

Make any breach at all, Nor smoothness of their language plot

Which way to scale the wall;
Nor balls of wildfire love consume

The shrine which I adore,
For if such smoke about thee fume,

I'll never love thee more.

I think thy virtues be too strong

To suffer by surprise, Which victuall'd by my love so long,

The siege at length must rise, And leave thee ruled in that health

And state thou wast before ; But if thou turn a Commonwealth,

I'll never love thee more.

But if by fraud or by consent

Thy heart to ruin come,
I'll sound no trumpet as I wont,

Nor march by beat of drum;
But hold my arms like ensigns up,

Thy falsehood to deplore,
And bitterly will sigh and weep,

And never love thee more.

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My heart shall with the sun be fix'd

In constancy most strange; And thine shall with the moon be mix'd,

Delighting still in change.

Thy beauty shined at first most bright,

And woe is me therefore !
That ever I found thy love so light,

I could love thee no more.

Verses written by the Marquis of Montrose with the point of a diamond upon the glass window of his prison, after receiving his sentence.

Let them bestow on every airth a limb;
Then open all my veins, that I may swim
To Thee, my Maker, in that crimson lake ;
Then place my parboild head upon a stake;
Scatter

strew them in the air :-
Lord! since Thou know'st where all those atoms are,
I'm hopeful Thou'lt recover once my dust,
And confident Thou'lt raise me with the Just.

my

ashes;

They who would follow the great Marquis to the last should read the fine ballad called “The Execution of Montrose,” in Professor Aytoun's charming volume “The Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers."

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