"Hae I left kith an' kin, Sir Knight,

To turn about and rue ?

Hae I shar'd win' an' weet wi' thee,
That I should leave thee noo?

"There's gowd an' siller in this han'
Will buy us mony a rigg;
There's pearlings in the other han’
A stately tower to bigg.

"Tho' thou'rt an outlaw frae this lan',

The warl's braid an' wide;

Make room, make room, my merry men,

For young Sir Arthur's bride!"

HEW AINSLIE.

The Fugitives

I.

THE waters are flashing,
The white hail is dashing,
The lightnings are glancing,
The hoar-spray is dancing-
Away!

The whirlwind is rolling,

The thunder is tolling,

The forest is swinging,

The minster bells ringing-
Come away!

The earth is like ocean,
Wreck-strewn and in motion :
Bird, beast, man and worm
Have crept out of the storm--
Come away!

II.

“Our boat has one sail,

And the helmsman is pale

A bold pilot I trow,

Who shall follow us now,"-
Shouted he

And she cried: "Ply the oar!
Put off gaily from shore!"-

As she spoke, bolts of death
Mixed with hail, specked their path
O'er the sea.

And from isle, tower and rock,
The blue beacon cloud broke,
And though dumb in the blast,
The red cannon flashed fast
From the lee.

III.

"And fear'st thou, and fear'st thou ?

And see'st thou, and hear'st thou ?

And drive we not free

O'er the terrible sea,

I and thou?”

One boat-cloak did cover

The loved and the lover

Their blood beats one measure,
They murmur proud pleasure
Soft and low

;

While around the lashed ocean,
Like mountains in motion,
Is withdrawn and uplifted,
Sunk, shattered and shifted
To and fro.

IV.

In the court of the fortress
Beside the pale portress,

Like a bloodhound well beaten
The bridegroom stands, eaten
By shame;

On the topmost watch-turret,
As a death-boding spirit,
Stands the gray tyrant father,
To his voice the mad weather
Seems tame;

And with curses as wild

As e'er clung to child,
He devotes to the blast

The best, loveliest, and last

Of his name!

P. B. SHELLEY.

The Rose

and the Fair Lily ≈

THE Earlsburn Glen is gay and green,
The Earlsburn water cleir,

And blythely blume on Earlsburn bank
The broom and eke the brier!

Twa sisters gaed up Earlsburn Glen

Twa maidens bricht o' blee—

The tane she was the Rose sae red,
The tither the fair Lilye!

"Ye mauna droop and dwyne, sister Said Rose to fair Lilye

"Yer heart ye mauna brek, sister--For ane that's ower the sea;

"The vows we sillie maidens hear
Frae wild and wilfu' man,

Are as the words the waves wash out
When traced upon the san'."

"I mauna think yer speech is sooth," Saft answered the Lilye;

"I winna dout mine ain gude knicht Tho' he's ayont the sea!"

Then scornfully the Rose sae red

Spake to the puir Lilye—

"The vows he feigned at thy bouir door, He plicht in mine to me!"

"I'll hame and spread the sheets, sister,

And deck my bed sae hie

The bed sae wide made for a bride
For I think I sune sal die!

"Your weird I sal na be, sister,
As mine I fear ye've bin—
Your luve I wil na cross, sister,
It were a mortal sin !”

Earlsburn Glen is green to see,

Earlsburn water cleir

Of the siller birk in Earlsburn Wood
They framit the maiden's bier!

There's a lonely dame in a gudely bouir,
She never lifts an ee-

That dame was ance the Rose sae red,
She is now a pale Lilye.

A knicht aft looks frae his turret tall,
Where the kirk-yaird grass grows green;
He wonne the weed and lost the flouir,
And grief aye dims his een.