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The happy hero see,
No vain schemes confounding him,

All his joys surrounding him,
Dear he holds his native land, its laws, and liberty.

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O white foaming Rhaider, by thy roaring fall,
How oft the last words of my love I recal,
When the fresh blowing blossom he pluck'd from yon tree,

gave it all blushing and fragrant to me:
Accept it, my Lucy, and long may it prove
A pleasing memorial of innocent love."

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O dear is that blossom, tho' faded, to me,
But it ne'er can return to unfold on the tree!
Nor ever will destiny Owen restore
To flourish again on his lov'd native shore :
Tho' its odour exhale, and its beauty decay,
'Twill remind me of him, and that sorrowful day,

This token of passion, so tender and true,
My bosom shall cherish, my tears shall bedew,
When I muse upon Owen and wander alone,
And think of those hours that for ever are flown,
I feel its soft magic, and find it a charm
To keep my heart spotless, and constant, and warm.

Then why should my youth feel the blight of despair,
Sweet visions of fancy may lighten my care !
Rise, pleasing remembrance, and banish my fears,
That hope may spring up, in the dew of those tears,
For smiling propitious, kind heaven may once more
My peace and my pleasure, with Owen restore.

Then Rhaider, hoarse dashing, with clamourous joy,
Shall witness the truth, that no time can destroy,
To welcome my love to his dear native isle,
Then gay in new beauty the valley shall smile:
And wreaths of fresh flow'rets shall deck out the trees
That so often has shelter'd my Owen and me

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AIR-I saw thy form.

O thou hast seen the lily fair

All bath'd in morning dew,
And thou hast seen the lovely rose,

Just opening to the view, Mary,

The lily bath'd in morning dew,

The rose so fair to see,
Are not more pure than her I love,

Are not more fair than thee, Mary,

But soon before time's withering blast,

The rose and lily fade,
For ev'n will beauty such as thine,

Outlive its darkening shade, Mary.

Yet there is that within thy breast

Will ruthless time defy,
A mind—will bloom when beauty fades,

Will flourish in yon sky, Mary.



Now clos'd for aýe thy coal-black een,

That fondly gaz'd on me,-0 Willy,
And lifeless lies that manly form,

I aye was fain to see my Willy.
Ah! luckless hour thou strave for hame,

Last night, across the Clyde-dear Willy, This morn a stiffen'd corse brought hame,

Alake, 'tis hard to bide— O Willy.

The owlet hooted sair yestreen,

And thrice the soot it fell-dear Willy, The tyke cam' late, and howl'd aloud,

It seem'd the dying knell o' Willy. Deep were the snaws, keen were my waess

The bairns oft cried for thee,--their Willy, I trembling said, he'll soon be here,

The wee things ne'er clos'd e'e, Willy.

And when I saw the thick sleet fa',

A bleezing fire I made for Willy, Then watch'd, and watch'd as it


dark, And I grew mair. afraid for Willy. I thought I heard the pony's foot,

And ran thy voice to hear, ah, Willy, The wind blew hollow, but nae sound

My sinking heart did cheer- O Willy.

The clock struck ane,--the clock struck twa,

The clock struck three and four- no Willy, I thought I heard the pony's foot,

And flew to ope the door to Willy; The pony neigh'd—but thou wert lost,

I sank upon the snaw, for Willy, Thy wraith appear'd e’en where I lay,

And whisper'd thou wert drown'd-O Willy

The moon was up, in vain I sought

The stiffen'd corse o' thine, lost Willy, 'Twill soon, soon mingle wi' the dust,

And near it sae will mine-O Willy. Gae dry your tears, my bairnies five,

Gae dry your tears o' sorrow, dearies, Your father's cares are at an end,

And sae will mine ere morrow, dearies,

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