But you've as many sweethearts as you'd count | Well, yes, on both your hands, if you saw us out driving Each day in the park, four-in-hand ; And for myself there's not a thumb or little If you saw poor dear mamma contriving finger stands. O, you're the flower o' womankind in country or in town; The higher I exalt you, the lower I'm cast down. If some great lord should come this way, and see your beauty bright, To look supernaturally grand, And yet, just this moment, when sitting In the glare of the grand chandelier, And you to be his lady, I'd own it was but In the bustle and glitter befitting right. That waits on the stairs - for me yet. And you, sir, are turning your nose up, And diamonds and silks and all that?" The " Of Harrison's barn, with its muster Of the candles that shed their soft lustre And tallow on head-dress and shawl; With the man that shot Sandy McGee; Of the moon that was quietly sleeping Well, well, it's all past; yet it's funny Of some one who breasted high water, And swam the North Fork, and all that, Just to dance with old Folinsbee's daughter, The Lily of Poverty Flat. But know, if you have n't got riches, And are poor, dearest Joe, and all that, Then take my advice, darling widow machree, Och hone! widow machree! That my heart's somewhere there in the ditches, And with my advice, faith, I wish you'd take And you've struck it, on Poverty Flat. me, Och hone! widow machree! You'd have me to desire Then to stir up the fire; And sure hope is no liar In whispering to me That the ghosts would depart When you'd me near your heart, Och hone! widow machree! SAMUEL LOVER, THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN. THE laird o' Cockpen he's proud and he's great. When everything smiles, should a beauty look Doun by the dyke-side a lady did dwell, And how do you know, with the comforts I've And what was his errand he soon let her know, Neist time that the Laird and the lady were seen, They were gaun arm and arm to the kirk on the green; Now she sits in the ha' like a weel-tappit hen, But as yet there 's nae chickens appeared at Cock pen. CAROLINA OLIPHANT, BARONESS NAIRNE. THE FAITHFUL LOVERS. I'D been away from her three years, about that, And I returned to find my Mary true ; "I've yet another ring from him; d'ye see The plain gold circlet that is shining here?" I took her hand: "O Mary! can it be That you"Quoth she, "that I am Mrs. Vere! I don't call that unfaithfulness- - do you?" "No," I replied, "for I am married too.' ANONYMOUS. COOKING AND COURTING. FROM TOM TO NED. DEAR Ned, no doubt you 'll be surprised When you receive and read this letter. I've railed against the marriage state; But then, you see, I knew no better. And though I'd question her, I did not doubt I've met a lovely girl out here ; that It was unnecessary so to do. 'T was by the chimney-corner we were sitting: "Mary," said I, "have you been always true?" "Frankly," says she, just pausing in her knitting, "I don't think I 've unfaithful been to you: But for the three years past I'll tell you what I've done; then say if I 've been true or not. "When first you left my grief was uncontrollable; I went to ask her out to ride At cousins' funerals to be looking); She said, to do that branch of cooking. "O, let me help you," then I cried : "I'll be a cooker too how jolly!" She laughed, and answered, with a smile, "All right! but you 'll repent your folly; For I shall be a tyrant, sir, And good hard work you 'll have to grapple; So sit down there, and don't you stir, But take this knife, and pare that apple." That lovely arm, so plump and rounded; With deep reflection her sweet eyes Would call just that unfaithfulness? Would Her rippling waves of golden hair you? In one great coil were tightly twisted; But locks would break it, here and there, And curl about where'er they listed. And then her sleeve came down, and I Fastened it up - her hands were doughy; O, it did take the longest time! Her arm, Ned was so round and snowy. Ladamia. WORDSWORTH. LOVE'S BLINDNESS. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, SHAKESPEARE. None ever loved but at first sight they loved. GEO. CHAPMAN. Who ever loved that loved not at first sight? Hero and Leander. C. MARLOWE. There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has But love is blind, and lovers cannot see told, Merchant of Venice, Act ii. Sc. 6. SHAKESPEARE. When two, that are linked in one heavenly tie, With heart never changing, and brow never cold, Charins strike the sight, but merit wins the soul. Love on through all ills, and love on till they die! Rape of the Lock, Cant. v. РОРЕ. Our souls sit close and silently within DRYDEY |