And closed for aye the sparkling glance That dwelt on me sae kindly! And mold'ring now in silent dust That heart that loved me dearly! But still within my bosom's core ANNIE LAURIE. BY DOUGLAS OF FINGLAND. M AXWELTON braes are bonnie Where early fa's the dew, And for bonnie Annie Laurie Her brow is like the snaw drift; Her face it is the fairest That e'er the sun shone on- And dark blue is her ee; Like dew on the gowan lying Her voice is low and sweet And she's a' the world to me; I'd lay me doune and dee. MY BLYTHE AN' BONNY LASSIE. BY JAMES HOGG. OW sair my heart nae man shall ken Ho When I took leave o' yonder glen, Her faithful dames, her honest men, Her streams sae pure an' glassy, O; Her woods that skirt the verdant vale, Her balmy breeze sae brisk an' hale, Her flower of every flower the wale, My blythe an' bonny lassie, O! The night was short, the day was lang, Gae part wi' that dear lassie, O. My blythe an' bonny lassie, O. Her form is gracefu' as the pine; Nor half sae sweet its juice to me, As a kiss o' my dear lassie, O. Whate'er I do, whate'er I be, Yon glen shall ay be dear to me; Her banks and howms sae fair to see; Her braes sae green an' grassy, 0: The young laird o' the Lang-Shaw Has drunk her health in wine; And that is mair in maiden's praise Than ony priest should say: The wailing in our green glen 'Twill draw the red hart frae the woods, The fairies frae the beds o' dew Will rise and join the lay: THE LASS OF GLENESLAN-MILL. BY ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. HE laverock loves the dewy light, TH The bee the balmy foxglove fair; The sweet lass of Gleneslan-mill. The violets lay their blossoms low, Their fragrant heads the lilies wave, Of her superior presence fain. O might I clasp her to my heart, Was she by green Gleneslan-mill. Mute was the wind, soft fell the dew, O'er Blackwood brow bright glowed the moon ; Rills murmured music, and the stars Refused to set our heads aboon : Ye might have heard our beating hearts, Wert thou an idol' all of gold, Had I the eye of worldish care, My lass of green Gleneslan-mill! THERE LIVES A YOUNG LASSIE. BY JOHN IMLAH. HERE lives a young lassie TH Far down yon lang glen; How I lo'e that lassie There's nae ane can ken! |