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And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide The father toils sair their wee bannock to earn,
Wha couthilie deal wi' the mitherless bairn !
while, That thought is joy, arrive what may to me. He bends to your bidding, and blesses your smile; My boast is not that I deduce my birth
In their dark hour o' anguish the heartless shall From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth;
I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER.
I REMEMBER, I remember
The house where I was born, And, while the wings of fancy still are free,
The little window where the sun And I can view this mimic show of thee,
Came peeping in at morn. Time has but half succeeded in his theft,
He never came a wink too soon,
Nor brought too long a day;
But now I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away!
I remember, I remember [An Inverary correspondent writes: "Thom gave me the fol.
The roses, red and white, lowing narrative as to the origin of 'The Mitherless Bairn'; I
The violets, and the lily-cups, –
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday, -
The tree is living yet !
I remember, I remember 'T is the puir doited loonie, - the mitherless
Where I was used to swing, bairn!
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing; The mitherless baimn gangs to his lane bed;
My spirit flew in feathers then, Nane covers his cauld back, or haps his bare
That is so heavy now, head; His wee hackit heelies are hard as the airn,
And summer pools could hardly cool An' litheless the lair o' the mitherless bairn.
The fever on my brow!
Aneath his cauld brow siccan dreams hover there,
I remember, I remember
The fir-trees dark and high ;
Were close against the sky.
But now 't is little joy
Yon sister that sang o'er his saftly rocked bed
Riding on a steed of steeds !
He shall love me without guile, And to him I will discover The swan's nest among the reeds.
v. " And the steed shall be red-roan, And the lover shall be noble,
With an eye that takes the breath.
And the lute he plays upon Shall strike ladies into trouble,
As his sword strikes men to death.
XI. “Three times shall a young foot-page Swim the stream and climb the mountain And kneel down beside my feet;
Lo, my master sends this gage, Lady, for thy pity's counting!
What wilt thon exchange for it?'
“And the steed it shall be shod All in silver, housed in azure,
And the mane shall swim the wind;
And the hoofs along the sod Shall flash onward and keep measure,
Till the shepherds look behind.
XII. “And the first time, I will send A white rosebud for a guerdon,
And the second time, a glove;
But the third time, I may bend
I am a duke's eldest son ! Thousand serfs do call me master,
But, O Love, I love but thee!'
VII. “But my lover will not prize All the glory that he rides in,
XIV. “He will kiss me on the mouth Then, and lead me as a lover
Through the crowds that praise his deeds ;
And, when soul-tied by one troth, Unto him I will discover
That swan's nest among the reeds."
“Myself will to my darling be
The girl, in rock and plain,
To kindle or restrain.
Little Ellie, with her smile Not yet ended, rose up gayly,
Tied the bonnet, donned the shoe,
And went homeward, round a mile, Just to see, as she did daily,
What more eggs were with the two.
“She shall be sportive as the fawn
Or up the mountain springs ;
Of mute insensate things. " The floating clouds their state shall lend To her; for her the willow bend;
Nor shall she fail to see
By silent sympathy.
In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound
Shall pass into her face.
Pushing through the elm-tree copse, Winding up the stream, light-hearted,
Where the osier pathway leads, –
Past the boughs she stoops — and stops. Lo, the wild swan had deserted,
And a rat had gnawed the reeds.
With his red-roan steed of steeds,
Sooth I know not ! but I know
ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.
“And vital feelings of delight
Her virgin bosom swell ;
Here in this happy dell."
She died, and left to me
And nevermore will be.
SWEET STREAM, THAT WINDS —
SWEET stream, that winds through yonder glade,
NARCISSA. “YOUNG, gay, and fortunate !" Each yields a
theme. . And, first, thy youth: what says it to gray hairs ? Narcissa, I'm become thy pupil now ;Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew, She sparkled, was exhaled, and went to heaven.
, DR. EDWARD YOUNG,
THE EDUCATION OF NATURE.
THREE years she grew in sun and shower;
On earth was never sown :
A lady of my own.
MAIDEN ! with the meek brown eyes,