Now the winter snaw's fa'ing

On bare holm and lea; And the cauld wind is strippin'

Ilk leaf aff the tree.

But the snaw fa's not faster,

Nor leaf disna part

Sae sune frae the bough, as

Faith fades in your heart.

Ye've waled out anither

Your bridegroom to be ;
But can his heart luve sae
As mine luvit thee?
Ye'll get biggings and mailins,
And monie braw claes ;
But they a' winna buy back
The peace o' past days.
Fareweel, and for ever,

My first luve and last,
May thy joys be to come,-
Mine live in the past.
In sorrow and sadness,
This hour fa's on me ;
But light, as thy luve, may
It fleet over thee !

XXXVI.

SONG OF THE DANISH SEA-KING.

OUR bark is on the waters deep, our bright blade's in our

hand,

Our birthright is the ocean vast-we scorn the girdled land; And the hollow wind is our music brave, and none can

bolder be

Than the hoarse-tongued tempest raving o'er a proud and swelling sea!

Our bark is dancing on the waves, its tall masts quivering

bend

Before the gale, which hails us now with the hollo of a friend;

And its prow is sheering merrily the upcurled billow's foam, While our hearts, with throbbing gladness, cheer old Ocean as our home!

Our eagle-wings of might we stretch before the gallant wind, And we leave the tame and sluggish earth a dim mean speck behind;

We shoot into the untracked deep, as earth-freed spirits soar, Like stars of fire through boundless space-through realms without a shore !

Lords of this wide-spread wilderness of waters, we bound free,
The haughty elements alone dispute our sovereignty ;
No landmark doth our freedom let, for no law of man can

mete

The sky which arches o'er our head-the waves which kiss our feet!

The warrior of the land may back the wild horse, in his

pride;

But a fiercer steed we dauntless breast-the untamed ocean

tide;

And a nobler tilt our bark careers, as it quells the saucy

wave,

While the Herald storm peals o'er the deep the glories of the brave.

Hurrah! hurrah! the wind is up-it bloweth fresh and free, And every cord, instinct with life, pipes loud its fearless

glee;

Big swell the bosomed sails with joy, and they madly kiss

the spray,

As proudly, through the foaming surge, the Sea-King bears away!

XXXVII.

THE CAVALIER'S SONG.

A STEED! a steed of matchlesse speed,
A sword of metal keene !

All else to noble heartes is drosse,

All else on earth is meane.

The neighyinge of the war-horse prowde,
The rowlinge of the drum,

The clangor of the trumpet lowde,

Be soundes from heaven that come;

And O! the thundering presse of knightes
Whenas their war cryes swell,

May tole from heaven an angel brighte,
And rouse a fiend from hell.

Then mounte! then mounte, brave gallants, all,
And don your helmes amaine :

Deathe's couriers, Fame and Honour, call
Us to the field againe.

No shrewish teares shall fill our eye

When the sword-hilt's in our hand,—
Heart whole we'll part, and no whit sighe
For the fayrest of the land!

Let piping swaine, and craven wight,
Thus weepe and puling crye,
Our business is like men to fight,
And hero-like to die!

XXXVIII.

THE MERRY GALLANT.

THE Merry Gallant girds his sword,
And dons his helm in mickle glee!

He leaves behind his lady love
For tented fields and deeds which prove
Stout hardiment and constancy.

When round him rings the din of arms,—
The notes of high-born chivalry,
He thinks not of his bird in bower,
And scorns to own Love's tyrant power
Amid the combats of the Free.

Yet in the midnight watch, I trow,
When cresset lights all feebly burn,
Will hermit Fancy sometimes roam
With eager travel back to home,

Where smiles and tears await-return.

"Away! away!" he boldly sings,

"Be thrown those thoughts which cling to me; That mournful look and glistering eye

That quivering lip and broken sigh ;—
Why crowd each shrine of memory?

"O, that to-morrow's dawn would rise
To light me on my path of glory,
Where I may pluck from niggard fame
Her bravest laurels-and the name

66

That long shall live in minstrel story!

Then, when my thirst for fame is dead,
Soft love may claim his wonted due ;
But now, when levelled lances gleam,
And chargers snort, and banners stream,
To lady's love a long adieu !"

XXXIX.

THE KNIGHT'S SONG.

ENDEARING! endearing!

Why so endearing

Are those dark lustrous eyes,

Through their silk fringes peering?

They love me! they love me!

Deeply, sincerely;

And more than aught else on earth,
I love them dearly.

Endearing endearing!
Why so endearing

Glows the glad sunny smile

On thy soft cheek appearing?