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THE WELCOME.

I.

COME in the evening, or come in the morning;

Come when you're looked for, or come without warning;
Kisses and welcome you'll find here before you,

And the oftener you come here the more I'll adore you!
Light is my heart since the day we were plighted;
Red is my cheek, that they told me was blighted;
The green of the trees looks far greener than ever,
And the linnets are singing "True lovers don't sever!"

II.

I'll pull you sweet flowers, to wear if you choose them!
Or, after you've kissed them, they'll lie on my bosom.
I'll fetch from the mountain its breeze to inspire you;
I'll fetch from my fancy a tale that won't tire you.
O! your step's like the rain to the summer-vexed farmer,
Or sabre and shield to a knight without armor.
I'll sing you sweet songs till the stars rise above me;
Then, wandering, I'll wish you, in silence, to love me.

III.

We'll look through the trees at the cliff and the eyrie;
We'll tread round the rath on the track of the fairy;
We'll look on the stars, and we'll list to the river,
Till you ask of your darling, what gift you can give her.

THE WELCOME.

O she'll whisper you- "Love, as unchangeably beaming; And trust, when in secret, most tunefully streaming; "

Till the starlight of Heaven above us shall quiver,

As our souls flow in one down Eternity's river.

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So come in the evening, or come in the morning;
Come when you're looked for, or come without warning;

SONG.

Kisses and welcome you'll find here before you,

And the oftener you come here the more I'll adore you!

Light is my heart since the day we were plighted;
Red is my cheek, that they told me was blighted;

The green of the trees looks far greener than ever,

And the linnets are singing "True lovers don't sever!"

THOMAS Davis.

SONG.

GATHER ye

rosebuds as ye may:

Old Time is still a-flying,

And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,

The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And, while ye may, go marry ;
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.

1

ROBERT HERRICK.

THE FISHERMEN.

THREE fishers went sailing out into the west,

Out into the west as the sun went down;

Each thought of the woman who loved him the best,

And the children stood watching them out of the town.

For men must work, and women must weep;

And there's little to earn, and many to keep,
Though the harbor bar be moaning.

Three wives sat up in the light-house tower,
And trimmed the lamps as the sun went down ;

And they looked at the squall, and they looked at the shower,
And the rack it came rolling up, ragged and brown.

But men must work, and women must weep,

Though storms be sudden, and waters deep,
And the harbor bar be moaning.

Three corpses lay out on the shining sands,

In the morning gleam as the tide went down;

And the women are watching, and wringing their hands,
For those who will never come back to the town.

For men must work, and women must weep;
And the sooner it's over, the sooner to sleep;

And good-bye to the bar and its moaning!

CHARLES Kingsley.

OLD TIMES.

I.

OLD times, old times, the gay old times,
When I was young and free,
And heard the merry Easter-chimes
Under the sally tree!

My Sunday palm beside me placed,
My cross upon my hand,

A heart at rest within my breast,

And sunshine on the land!

Old times! Old times!

II.

It is not that my fortunes flee,
Nor that my cheek is pale,
I mourn whene'er I think of thee,
My darling native vale!

A wiser head I have, I know,

Than when I loitered there;

But in my wisdom there is woe,
And in my knowledge care.

Old times! Old times!

III.

I've lived to know my share of joy,

To feel my share of pain,

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