BONNIE GEORGE CAMPBELL.

HIE upon Hielands,
And low upon Tay,
Bonnie George Campbell

Rade out on a day.
Saddled and bridled

And gallant rade he; Hame cam his gude horse, But never cam he!

Out cam his auld mither,
Greetin' fu' sair;

And out cam his bonnie bride,

Rivin' her hair. Saddled and bridled

And booted rade he;

Toom hame cam the saddle,
But never cam he!

"My meadow lies green, And my corn is unshorn;

My barn is to big,

And my baby's unborn." Saddled and bridled

And booted rade he;

Toom hame cam the saddle,

But never cam he!

ANONYMOUS.

BLOW, BLOW, THOU WINTER WIND.

BLOW, blow, thou winter wind!

Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude ;

Thy tooth is not so keen,

Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly. Then, heigh ho! the holly!

This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,

Thou dost not bite so nigh

As benefits forgot;
Though thou the waters warp,

Thy sting is not so sharp

As friend remembered not.

Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.

Then, heigh ho! the holly!

This life is most jolly.

SHAKSPEARE.

THE TWO LOCKS OF HAIR.

A YOUTH, light-hearted and content,
I wander through the world;
Here, Arab-like, is pitched my tent,
And straight again is furled.

I wake! Away that dream-away!
Too long did it remain :

So long that both by night and day
It ever comes again.

The end lies ever in my thought:
To a grave, so cold and deep,
The mother beautiful was brought;
Then dropped the child asleep.

But now the dream is wholly o'er,
I bathe mine eyes and see;

And wander through the world once more,
A youth so light and free.

THE LORDS OF THULE.

Two locks and they are wondrous fair!

Left me that vision mild;

The brown is from the mother's hair,

The blond is from the child.

And when I see that lock of gold
Pale grows the evening red;
And when the dark lock I behold

I wish that I were dead.

Gustav PfizeR. (German.)

Translation of HENRY WADSWORTH LONgfellow.

THE LORDS OF THULE.

THE Lords of Thule it did not please
That Willegis their bishop was;
For he was a wagoner's son.
And they drew, to do him scorn,

Wheels of chalk upon the wall;

He found them in chamber, found them in hall.

But the pious Willegis

Could not be moved to bitterness :

Seeing the wheels upon the wall,

He bade his servants a painter call;

And said" My friend, paint now for me,

On every wall, that I may see,

A wheel of white in a field of red;

Underneath, in letters plain to be read,