« VorigeDoorgaan »
Nor how I doated on you ; 0, how proud I was
of you ! But did I love you more than now, when this
old ring was new!
That course nor Delhi's kingly gates,
Nor mild Malwah detain ;
By yonder western main.
Across the dark blue sea ;
As then shall meet in thee !
No- no ! no fairer were you then than at this
hour to me; And, dear as life to me this day, how could you
dearer be? As sweet your face might be that day as now it
is, 't is true; But did I know your heart as well when this old
ring was new?
JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO.
When we were first acquent,
Your bonnie brow was brent ;
Your locks are like the snaw ;
John Anderson, my jo.
We clamb the hill thegither ;
We've had wi' ane anither.
But hand in hand we 'll go :
John Anderson, my jo.
O partner of my gladness, wife, what care, what
grief is there For me you would not bravely face, with me
you would not share ? 0, what a weary want had every day, if wanting
you, Wanting the love that God made mine when
this old ring was new !
Years bring fresh links to bind us, wife, — young
voices that are here; Young faces round our fire that make their
mother's yet more dear; Young loving hearts your care each day makes
yet more like to you, More like the loving heart made mine when this
old ring was new.
THE WORN WEDDING-RING.
Your wedding-ring wears thin, dear wife ; ah, And blessed be God ! all he has given are with summers not a few,
us yet; around Since I put it on your finger first, have passed Our table every precious life lent to us still is o'er me and you ;
found. And, love, what changes we have seen, — what Though cares we've known, with hopeful hearts cares and pleasures, too,
the worst we've struggled through ; Since you became my own dear wife, when this Blessed be his name for all his love since this old ring was new !
old ring was new !
0, blessings on that happy day, the happiest of The past is dear, its sweetness still our memomy life,
ries treasure yet ; When, thanks to God, your low, sweet “Yes” The griefs we've borne, together borne, we would made you my loving wife !
not now forget. Your heart will say the same, I know; that Whatever, wife, the future brings, heart unto
heart still true, day's as dear to you, That day that made me yours, dear wife, when We'll share as we have shared all else since this this old ring was new.
old ring was new.
How well do I remember now your young sweet And if God spare us 'mongst our sons and daughface that day !
ters to grow old, How fair you were, how dear you were, my We know his goodness will not let your heart tongue could hardly say ;
or mine grow cold.
WILLIAM COX BENNETT.
Your aged eyes will see in mine all they've still
Mild is Maire bhan astor, shown to you,
Mine is Maire bhan astór, And mine in yours all they have seen since this
Saints will watch about the door old ring was new.
Of my Maire bhan astór.
THOMAS DAVIS, And 0, when death shall come at last to bid me
to my rest, May I die looking in those eyes, and resting on
ADAM TO EVE. that breast; 0, may my parting gaze be blessed with the dear O FAIREST of creation, last and best sight of you,
Of all God's works, creature in whom excelled Of those fond eyes,
- fond as they were when Whatever can to sight or thought be formed,
Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet !
The strict forbiddance, how to violate
The sacred fruit forbidden! Some cursed fraud
Of enemy hath beguiled thee, yet unknown,
And me with thee hath ruined, for with thec
Certain my resolution is to die.
How can I live without thee, how forego
Thy sweet converse, and love so dearly joined,
To live again in these wild woods forlorn ?
Should God create another Eve, and I
Another rib afford, yet loss of thee
Would never from my heart ; no, no, I feel
The link of nature draw me : flesh of flesh
Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state
Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.
Consort with thee, death is to me as life ;
The bond of nature draw me to my own,
My own in thee, for what thou art is mine ;
Our state cannot be severed, we are one,
One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself.
And he knew she loved me too,
PORTIA AND BRUTUS.
Portia. Brutus, my lord !
BRUTUS. Portia, what mean you? Wherefore
rise you now?
Your weak condition to the raw-cold morning.
Por. Nor for yours neither. You have un. Surely reaps the crop it sows,
Stole from my bed : And yesternight, at supper,
From our hearth with mait go leor, And when I asked you what the matter was,
You stared upon me with ungentle looks : Of my Maire bhan astór.
I urged you further; then you scratched your head,
Think you, I am no stronger than my sex,
And too impatiently stamped with your foot :
LORD WALTER'S WIFE.
It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep, “But why do you go ?” said the lady, while both And, could it work so much upon your shape,
sate under the yew, As it hath much prevailed on your condition, And her eyes were alive in their depth, as the I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord, kraken beneath the sea-blue. Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. Brv. I am not well in health, and that is all.
“ Because I fear you," he answered ; “ because Por. Brutus is wise, and were he not in health, you are far too fair, He would embrace the means to come by it.
And able to strangle my soul in a mesh of your Bru. Why, so I do :- good Portia, go to bed. gold-colored hair."
Por. Is Brutus sick, - and is it physical
“O that,” she said, “is no reason ! Such knots And will he steal out of his wholesome bed,
are quickly undone, To dare the vile contagion of the night,
And too much beauty, I reckon, is nothing but And tempt the rheumy and unpurgéd air
too much sun.' To add unto his sickness ? No, my Brutus ; You have some sick offence within your mind, “Yet farewell so," he answered ; — "the sunWhich, by the right and virtue of my place,
stroke 's fatal at times, I ought to know of: And upon my knees I value your husband, Lord Walter, whose gallop I charm you, by my once commended beauty,
rings still from the limes."
“O that,” she said, “is no reason. You smell Why you are heavy; and what men to-night
a rose through a fence : Have had resort to you,
for here have been
If two should smell it, what matter? who grumSome six or seven, who did hide their faces
bles, and where's the pretence ?" Even from darkness. BRU.
Kneel not, gentle Portia. Por. I should not need, if you were gentle
“But I," he replied, “have promised another, Brutus.
when love was free, Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,
To love her alone, alone, who alone and afar loves
“Why, that,” she said, “is no reason. Love's To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed,
always free, I am told. And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the Will you vow to be safe from the headache on suburbs
Tuesday, and think it will hold ?" of your good pleasure ? If it be no more, Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.
“But you," he replied, “have a daughter, a Bru. You are my true and honorable wife ;
young little child, who was laid As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops
In your lap to be pure; so I leave you : the anThat visit my sad heart.
gels would make me afraid." Por. If this were true, then should I know
this secret. I grant I am a woman ; but, withal,
“O that,” she said, “is no reason. The angels A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife :
keep out of the way ; I grant I am a woman ; but, withal,
And Dora, the child, observes nothing, although A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter.
you should please me and stay."
At which he rose up in his anger, "Why, now,
“Love's a virtue for heroes ! - as white as the you no longer are fair !
snow on high hills, Why, now, you no longer are fatal, but ugly and And immortal as every great soul is that strughateful, I swear."
gles, endures, and fulfils.
XXI. At which she laughed out in her scorn, —"These “I love my Walter profoundly, — you, Maude, men ! O, these men overnice,
though you faltered a week, Who are shocked if a color not virtuous is frankly For the sake of ... what was it? an eyebrow? or, put on by a vice.”
less still, a mole on a cheek?
Her eyes blazed upon him — “And you! You
“And since, when all's said, you 're too noble to bring us your vices so near
stoop to the frivolous cant That we smell them ! You think in our presence About crimes irresistible, virtues that swindle, a thought 't would defame us to hear !
betray, and supplant,
“What reason had you, and what right, - I ap
peal to your soul from my life, To find me too fair as a woman? Why, sir, I am pure, and a wife.
XIV. “Is the day-star too fair up above you ? It burns
you not. Dare you imply I brushed you more close than the star does, when
Walter had set me as high ?
“I determined to prove to yourself that, whate'er
you might dream or avow By illusion, you wanted precisely no more of me than you have now.
XXIV. “There ! Look me full in the face !- in the face.
Understand, if you can, That the eyes of such women as I am are clean as the palm of a man.
XXV. “Drop his hand, you insult him. Avoid us for
fear we should cost you a scar, You take us for harlots, I tell you, and not for the women we are.
XXVI. “You wronged me : but then I considered...
there's Walter! And so at the end, I vowed that he should not be mulcted, by me,
in the hand of a friend.
“If a man finds a woman too fair, he means sim
ply adapted too much To uses unlawful and fatal. The praise ! — shall I thank you for such ?
XVI. “Too fair?- not unless you misuse us ! and surely
if, once in a while, You attain to it, straightway you call us no longer
too fair, but too vile.
An oak and an elm tree stand beside,
And behind does an ash-tree grow,
Droops to the water below.
Pleasant it was to his eye,
And there was not a cloud in the sky.
For thirsty and hot was he,
Under the willow-tree.
At the well to fill his pail,
And bade the stranger hail. “Now art thou a bachelor, stranger ?” quoth he,
“ For an if thou hast a wife, The happiest draught thou hast drank this day
That ever thou didst in thy life.
In Cornwall ever been ?
She has drank of the well St. Keyne.”
“I have left a good woman who never was here,"
The stranger he made reply ; “But that my draught should be better for that,
I pray you answer me why.” “St. Keyne, "quoth the countryman,“manya time
Drank of this crystal well,
She laid on the water a spell.
Shall drink before his wife,
For he shall be master for life.
Heaven help the husband then !"
And drank of the waters again. “You drank of the well, I warrant, betimes ?"
He to the countryman said. But the countryman smiled as the stranger spake,
And sheepishly shook his head. “I hastened, as soon as the wedding was done,
And left my wife in the porch.
For she took a bottle to church.'
This hearth 's our own,
Our hearts are one, And peace is ours forever !
HOME, SWEET HOME.
There 's no place like home!
than all ! Home ! home, &c.
JOHN HOWARD PAYNE.
When I was poor,
Your father's door Was closed against your constant lover,
With care and pain,
I tried in vain
Where Fate may smile on me, love"
Sing Gille machrce, &c.
GILLE MACHREE. ENGLISH, — "BRIGHTENER OF MY HEART."
Sit down by me, We now are joined and ne'er shall sever;
I might have said,
My mountain maid,
I know a spot,
A silent cot,
By one small garden only;