Gladdening the leaflets
That tremulous sigh;
Star of my wandering,
Symbol of love,

Lead me to dream of

The Fountain above!

XC.

IT DEEPLY WOUNDS THE TRUSTING HEART.

IT deeply wounds the trusting heart

That ever throbs to good,

To know that by a perverse art

It still is misconstrued:

And thus the beauties of the field,

The glories of the sky,

To lofty natures often yield

Sole solace ere they die.

The things that harmless couch on earth,
Or pierce the blue of heaven,

Have mystic reasons in their birth
Why they should be sin-shriven.

The secrets of the human breast
No human eye may scan;
With Him alone those secrets rest
Who made and judgeth man.

Nor lightly should we estimate
The Hand which rules it so,

Nor idly seek to penetrate

What angels may not know.

Enough that with a righteous will,
In this disjointed scene,

The upright one, through good and ill,
Will be as he hath been.

And should a ribald multitude

Repay with hate his love,

He still can smile: man's ways are viewed By Him who rules above.

XCI.

THE ETTIN O' SILLARWOOD.

"O, SILLARWOOD! sweet Sillarwood,
Gin Sillarwood were mine,
I'd big a bouir in Sillarwood
And theik it ower wi' thyme;

At ilka door, and ilka bore,

The red, red rose, wud shine!”

It's up and sang the bonnie bird,
Upon her milk-white hand-

“I wudna lig in Sillarwood,

For all a gude Earl's land;
I wudna sing in Sillarwood,
Tho' gowden glist ilk wand!

"The wild boar rakes in Sillarwood,

The buck drives thro' the shaw,
And simmer woos the Southern wind
Thro' Sillarwood to blaw.

"Thro' Sillarwood, sweet Sillarwood,
The deer hounds run so free;
But the hunter stark of Sillarwood
An Ettin lang is he !"

"O, Sillarwood! sweet Sillarwood," Fair Marjorie did sing,

"On the tallest tree in Sillarwood, That Ettin lang will hing!"

The Southern wind it blaws fu' saft,
And Sillarwood is near;

Fair Marjorie's sang in Sillarwood,
The stark hunter did hear.

He band his deer hounds in their leash,
Set his bow against a tree,

And three blasts on his horn has brocht
The wood elf to his knee.

"Gae bring to me a shapely weed,
Of silver and of gold,

Gae bring to me as stark a steed,
As ever stepped on mold;
For I maun ride frae Sillarwood
This fair maid to behold!"

The wood elf twisted sun-beams red
Into a shapely weed,

And the tallest birk in Sillarwood

He hewed into a steed;

And shod it wi' the burning gold

To glance like ony glede.

The Ettin shook his bridle reins
And merrily they rung,
For four and twenty sillar bells
On ilka side were hung.

The Ettin rade, and better rade,
Some thretty miles and three,
A bugle horn hung at his breast,
A lang sword at his knee;

"I wud I met," said the Ettin lang,
"The maiden Marjorie !"

The Ettin rade and better rade
Till he has reached her bouir,
And there he saw fair Marjorie
As bricht as lily flouir.

"O Sillarwood !-Sweet Sillarwood!Gin Sillarwood were mine,

The sleuthest hawk o' Sillarwood
On dainty flesh wud dine!"

"Weel met, weel met," the Ettin said, "For ae kiss o' that hand,

I wud na grudge my kist o' gold
And forty fees o' land!

"Weel met, weel met," the Ettin said, "For ae kiss o' that cheek,

I'll big a bower wi' precious stanes,
The red gold sal it theik :

"Weel met, weel met,” the Ettin said, "For ae kiss o' thy chin,

I'll welcome thee to Sillarwood
And a' that grows therein !"

" If ye may leese me Sillarwood Wi' a' that grows therein,

66

Ye're free to kiss my cheek," she said, "Ye're free to kiss my chin—

The Knicht that hechts me Sillarwood My maiden thocht sal win!

My luve I've laid on Sillarwood

Its bonnie aiken tree

And gin that I hae Sillarwood

I'll link alang wi' thee!"

Then on she put her green mantel
Weel furred wi' minivere :
Then on she put her velvet shoon,
The silver shining clear.

She proudly vaulted on the black-
He bounded on the bay-
The stateliest pair that ever took
To Sillarwood their way!

It's up and sang the gentil bird
On Marjorie's fair hand-
"I wudna wend to Sillarwood
For a' its timbered land-
Nor wud I lig in Sillarwood

Tho' gowden glist ilk wand!

"The Hunters chace thro' Sillarwood
The playfu' herte and rae ;
Nae maiden that socht Sillarwood
E'er back was seen to gae!"

The Ettin leuch, the Ettin sang,

He whistled merrilie,

"If sic a bird," he said, 66

I'd hing it on a tree."

were mine,

"Were I the Lady Marjorie,
Thou hunter fair but free,
My horse's head I'd turn about,
And think nae mair o' thee!"

It's on they rade, and better rade-
They shimmered in the sun-
"Twas sick and sair grew Marjorie
Lang e'er that ride was done!

Yet on they rade, and better rade,
They neared the Cross o' stane--