We felt that our love lived,
And loathed idle sound.

I gazed on your sweet face
Till tears filled my e'e,

Ana they drapt on your wee loof, —
A warld's wealth to me.

Now the winter's snaw 's fa'ing

On bare holm and lea;

And the cauld wind is strippin'

Ilk leafaff 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!

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,

girdled land;

we scorn the

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 fear

less 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!