Now let us sing, Long live the King! And when he next doth ride abroad 325 RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN DRINKING SONG HERE'S to the maiden of bashful fifteen, Here's to the flaunting extravagant quean, I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass. Here's to the charmer, whose dimples we prize, Here's to the maid with a bosom of snow, For let 'em be clumsy, or let 'em be slim, I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass. 326 ANNA LAETITIA BARBAULD [1743-1825] LIFE LIFE! I know not what thou art, But this I know, when thou art fled, As all that then remains of me. O whither, whither, dost thou fly? Ah, tell where I must seek this compound I? From whence thy essence came Dost thou thy flight pursue, when freed Wait, like some spell-bound knight, Life! we have been long together, Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; Choose thine own time; Say not Good-night, but in some brighter clime 327 ISOBEL PAGAN(?) [1741 (?)-1821] CA' THE YOWES TO THE KNOWES CA' the yowes' to the knowes,* As I gaed down the water side, 'Will ye gang down the water side, The moon it shines fu' clearly.' 'I was bred up at nae sic school, And naebody to see me.' 'Ye sall get gowns and ribbons meet, 'If ye'll but stand to what ye've said, 'While waters wimple to the sea, 328 LADY ANNE LINDSAY [1750-1825] AULD ROBIN GRAY WHEN the sheep are in the fauld,' and the kye' at hame, The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e, Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride; To make the croun a pund, young Jamie gaed to sea; He hadna been awa' a week but only twa, When my father brak his arm, and the cow was stown' awa; My mother she fell sick, and my Jamie at the sea- My father couldna work, and my mother couldna spin; I toil'd day and night, but their bread I couldna win; Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and wi' tears in his e'e Said, Jennie, for their sakes, O, marry me! My heart it said nay; I look'd for Jamie back; But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a wrack; My father urgit sair: my mother didna speak; But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break: They gi'ed him my hand, but my heart was at the sea; Sae auld Robin Gray he was gudeman to me. I hadna been a wife a week but only four, I saw my Jamie's wraith, for I couldna think it he Till he said, I'm come hame to marry thee. O sair, sair did we greet," and muckle did we say; I wish that I were dead, but I'm no like to dee; I gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin; 329 THOMAS CHATTERTON [1752-1770] SONG FROM ELLA O SING unto my roundelay, O drop the briny tear with me; Like a running river be: My love is dead, Gone to his death-bed All under the willow-tree. 2 Black his cryne' as the winter night, My love is dead, Gone to his death-bed All under the willow-tree. Sweet his tongue as the throstle's note Deft his tabor, cudgel stout; • Ghost. 5 Weep. • Much. 1 Hair. Complexion. |