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And, while we ate the grateful food

(With weary limbs on bench reclined), Considerate and discreet, she stood

A part, and listened to the wind.

On her cheek an autumn flush
Deeply ripened ; - such a blush
In the midst of brown was born,
Like red poppies grown with corn.

Kind wishes both our souls engaged,

From breast to breast spontaneous ran The mutual thought, we stood and pledged


Round her eyes her tresses fell, ---
Which were blackest none could tell ;
But long lashes veiled a light
That had else been all too bright.

"The milk we drink is not more pure,

Sweet Mary,- bless those budding charms ! Than your own generous heart, I'm sure,

Nor whiter than the breast it warms !”

And her hat, with shady brim, Made her tressy forehead dim ; Thus she stood amid the stooks, Praising God with sweetest looks.

She turned and gazed, unused to hear

Such language in that homely glen ; But, Mary, you have naught to fear,

Though smiled on by two stranger-men.

Sure, I said, Heaven did not mean
Where I reap thou shouldst but glean ;
Lay thy sheaf adown and come,
Share my harvest and my home.


Not for a crown would I alarm

Your virgin pride by word or sign, Nor need a painful blush disarm

My friend of thoughts as pure as mine.


Her simple heart could not but feel

The words we spoke were free from guile ; She stooped, she blushed, she fixed her wheel,--

”T is all in vain,- she can't but smile !

SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways

Beside the springs of Dove ; A maid whom there were none to praise,

And very few to love.

Just like sweet April's dawn appears

Her modest face, I see it yet, And though I lived a hundred years

Methinks I never could forget

A violet by a mossy stone

Half hidden from the eye! - Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.

The pleasure that, despite her heart,

Fills all her downcast eyes with light, The lips reluctantly apart,

The white teeth struggling into sight,

She lived unknown, and few could know

When Lucy ceased to be ; But she is in her grave, and 0,

The difference to me!


The dimples eddying o'er her cheek,

The rosy cheek that won't be still ; 0, who could blame what flatterers speak,

Did smiles like this reward their skill ?


For such another smile, I vow,

Though loudly beats the midnight rain, I'd take the mountain-side e'en now,

And walk to Luggelaw again !


SWEET Highland Girl, a very shower
Of beauty is thy earthly dower !
Twice seven consenting years have shed
Their utmost bounty on thy head ;
And these gray rocks, this household lawn,
These trees,

- a veil just half withdrawn,
This fall of water that doth make
A murmur near the silent lake,
This little bay, a quiet road
That holds in shelter thy abode ;
In truth together ye do seem
Like something fashioned in a dream ;
Such forms as from their covert peep
When earthly cares are laid asleep!


She stood breast high amid the corn,
Clasped by the golden light of morn,
Like the sweetheart of the sun,
Who many a glowing kiss had won.

But O fair Creature ! in the light
Of common day so heavenly bright,
I bless thee, Vision as thou art,
I bless thee with a human heart :
God shield thee to thy latest years !
I neither know thee nor thy peers;
And yet my eyes are filled with tears.

To give new pleasure like the past,
Continued long as life shall last.
Nor am I loath, though pleased at heart,
Sweet Highland Girl ! from thee to part;
For I, methinks, till I grow old
As fair before me shall behold
As I do now, the cabin small,
The lake, the bay, the waterfall ;
And thee, the spirit of them all!



With earnest feeling I shall pray
For thee when I am far away ;
For never saw I mien or face
In which more plainly I could trace
Benignity and home-bred sense
Ripening in perfect innocence.
Here scattered like a random seed,
Remote from men, thou dost not need
The embarrassed look of shy distress,
And maidenly shamefacedness :
Thou wear'st upon thy forehead clear
The freedom of a mountaineer ;
A face with gladness overspread,
Soft smiles, by human kindness bred ;
And seemliness complete, that sways
Thy courtesies, about thee plays ;
With no restraint, but such as springs
From quick and eager visitings
Of thoughts that lie beyond the reach
Of thy few words of English speech,
A bondage sweetly brooked, a strife
That gives thy gestures grace and life !
So have I, not unmoved in mind,
Seen birds of tempest-loving kind,
Thus beating up against the wind.

JENNY kissed me when we met,

Jumping from the chair she sat in. Time, you thief! who love to get

Sweets into your list, put that in. Say I'm weary, say I'm sad ;

Say that health and wealth have missed me; Say I'm growing old, but add

Jenny kissed me !



“YOUNG, gay, and fortunate !” Lach yields a

theme. And, first, thy youth : what says it to gray hairs ? Narcissa, I 'm become thy pupil now ; Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew, She sparkled, was exhaled, and went to heaven.



What hand but would a garland cull
For thee who art so beautiful ?
O happy pleasure ! here to dwell
Beside thee in some heathy dell;
Adopt your homely ways and dress,
A shepherd, thou a shepherdless !
But I could frame a wish for thee
More like a grave reality :
Thou art to me but as a wave
Of the wild sea,; and I would have
Some claim upon thee, if I could,
Though but of common neighborhood.
What joy to hear thee, and to see !
Thy elder brother I would be,
Thy father, --- anything to thee.

SWEET stream, that winds througlı yonder glade,
Apt emblem of a virtuous maid,
Silent and chaste, she steals along,
Far from the world's gay, busy throng ;
With gentle yet prevailing force,
Intent upon her destined course ;
Graceful and useful all she does,
Blessing and blest where'er she goes ;
Pure-bosomed as that watery glass,
And Heaven reflected in her face.



Now thanks to Heaven ! that of its grace
Hath led me to this lonely place ;
Joy have I had ; and going hence
I bear away my recompense.
In spots like these it is we prize
Our Memory, feel that she hath eyes :
Then why should I be loath to stir ?
I feel this place was made for her ;

THEY sat and combed their beautiful hair,

Their long, bright tresses, one by one, As they laughed and talked in the chamber there,

After the revel was done.

Idly they talked of waltz and quadrille,

Idly they laughed, like other girls,


Who over the fire, when all is still,

Comb out their braids and curls.

There'll be only one of you left for the bloom

Of the bearded lips to press,

Robe of satin and Brussels lace,

Knots of flowers and ribbons, too, Scattered about in every place,

For the revel is through.

Only one for the bridal pearls,

The robe of satin and Brussels lace, Only one to blush through her curls

At the sight of a lover's face.

And Maud and Madge in robes of white,

The prettiest nightgowns under the sun, Stockingless, slipperless, sit in the night,

For the revel is done,

O beautiful Madge, in your bridal white,

For you the revel has just begun; But for her who sleeps in your arms to-night

The revel of Life is done!

Sit and comb their beautiful hair,

Those wonderful waves of brown and gold, Till the fire is out in the chamber there,

And the little bare feet are cold.

But, robed and crowned with your saintly bliss,

Queen of heaven and bride of the sun, O beautiful Maud, you 'll never miss

The kisses another hath won !


Then out of the gathering winter chill,

All out of the bitter St. Agnes weather, While the fire is out and the house is still,

Maud and Madge together,


Maud and Madge in robes of white,

The prettiest nightgowns under the sun, Curtained away from the chilly night,

After the revel is done,

I'm in love with neighbor Nelly,

Though I know she's only ten,
While, alas ! I'm eight-and-forty

And the marriedest of men !
I've a wife who weighs me double,

I've three daughters all with beaux : I've a son with noble whiskers,

Who at me turns up his nose.

Float along in a splendid dream,

To a golden gittern's tinkling tune, While a thousand lusters shimmering stream

In a palace's grand saloon.

Flashing of jewels and flutter of laces,

Tropical odors sweeter than musk, Men and women with beautiful faces,

And eyes of tropical dusk,

Though a square-toes, and a fogey,

Still I've sunshine in my heart; Still I 'm fond of cakes and marbles,

Can appreciate a tart.
I can love my neighbor Nelly

Just as though I were a boy :
I could hand her nuts and apples

From my depths of corduroy.

And one face shining out like a star,

One face haunting the dreams of each, And one voice, sweeter than others are,

Breaking into silvery speech,

Telling, through lips of bearded bloom,

An old, old story over again,
As down the royal bannered room,

To the golden gittern's strain,

She is tall, and growing taller,

She is vigorous of limb; (You should see her play at cricket,

With her little brother Jim.) She has eyes as blue as damsons,

She has pounds of auburn curls, She regrets the game of leap-frog

Is prohibited to girls.

Two and two, they dreamily walk,

While an unseen spirit walks beside, And all unheard in the lovers' talk.

He claimeth one for a bride.

O Maud and Madge, dream on together,

With never a pang of jealous fear! For, ere the bitter St. Agnes weather

Shall whiten another year,

I adore my neighbor Nelly,

I invite her in to tea;
And I let her nurse the baby,

All her pretty ways to see.
Such a darling bud of woman,

Yet remote from any teens,
I have learnt from neighbor Nelly

What the girl's doll-instinct means.

Robed for the bridal, and robed for the tomb,

Braided brown hair and golden tress,

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