V

FITZ-EUSTACE'S SONG

WHERE shall the lover rest,

Whom the Fates sever

From his true maiden's breast,

Parted for ever?

Where, through groves deep and high,

Sounds the far billow,

Where early violets die

Under the willow.

CHORUS.

Eleu loro, etc.

Soft shall be his pillow.

There, through the summer day,
Cool streams are laving;
There, while the tempests sway,

Scarce are boughs waving;
There, thy rest shalt thou take,

Parted for ever,

Never again to wake,

Never, O never.

CHORUS.

Eleu loro, etc. Never, O never.

Where shall the traitor rest,

He, the deceiver,

Who could win maiden's breast,

Ruin, and leave her?

In the lost battle,

Borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle

With groans of the dying.

Eleu loro, etc.

CHORUS.

There shall he be lying.

Her wing shall the eagle flap

O'er the false-hearted;

His warm blood the wolf shall lap,

Ere life be parted.

Shame and dishonour sit

By his grave ever ; Blessing shall hallow it,—

Never, O never.

CHORUS.

Eleu loro, etc. Never, O never.

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

VI

LOVE'S SECRET

NEVER seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be ;
For the gentle wind doth move
Silently, invisibly.

I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears.
Ah! she did depart.

Soon after she was gone

A traveller came by,

Silently, invisibly:

from me,

He took her with a sigh.

WILLIAM BLAKE.

VII

WHEN WE TWO PARTED

WHEN we two parted

In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted

To sever for years,

Pale grew thy cheek and cold,

Colder thy kiss ; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning

Sunk chill on my brow-

It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me-
Why wert thou so dear?
They knew not I knew thee,

Who knew thee too well:
Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met

In silence I grieve,

That thy heart could forget,

Thy spirit deceive.

If I should meet thee

After long years,

How should I greet thee?—

With silence and tears.

GEORGE LORD BYRON.

VIII

TRIOLET

WHEN first we met we did not guess
That Love would prove so hard a master;
Of more than common friendliness
When first we met we did not guess.
Who could foretell this sore distress,
This irretrievable disaster

When first we met?-We did not guess

That Love would prove so hard a master.

ROBERT BRIDGES.

IX

THE BANKS O' DOON

YE banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,

How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair! How can ye chant, ye little birds,

And I sae weary fu' o' care!

Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird,

That wantons through the flowering thorn; Thou minds me o' departed joys,

Departed-never to return.

Aft hae I roved by bonnie Doon,

To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,

And fondly sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
And my fause luver staw my rose,
But, ah! he left the thorn wi' me.

ROBERT BUrns.

X

DIRGE FOR WOLFRAM

IF thou wilt ease thine heart
Of love and all its smart,

Then sleep, dear, sleep;

And not a sorrow

Hang any tear on your eyelashes;

Lie still and deep,

Sad soul, until the sea-wave washes

The rim o' the sun to-morrow,

In eastern sky.

But wilt thou cure thine heart

Of love and all its smart,

Then die, dear, die;

'Tis deeper, sweeter,

Than on a rose bank to lie dreaming

With folded eye;

And then alone, amid the beaming

Of love's stars, thou'lt meet her

In eastern sky.

THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES.