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Ha, honest nurse !-Where were my eyes before ? I know thy faithfulness, and need no more ; Yet from the lab'rinth to lead out my mind, Say, to expose her who was so unkind ? [Sir William embraces Peggy, and makes her sit by
him.) Yes, surely thou 'rt my niece ! Truth must pre
vail! But no more words till Mause relate her tale.
Then, since my master orders, I obey. This bonny foundling, ae clear morn of May, Close by the lee-side of my door I found, All sweet and clean, and carefully hapt round In infant-weeds of rich and gentle make. What could they be — thought I - did thee forsake? Wha, warse than brutes, cou'd leave exposed to air Sae much of innocence, sae sweetly fair, Sae helpless young ? - For she appeared to me Only about twa towmonds auld to be. I took her in my arms, — the bairnie smiled With sic a look wad made a savage mild. I hid the story, and she passed sincesyne As a poor orphan, and a niece of mine. Nor do I rue my care about the wean, For she's well worth the pains that I have tane. Ye see she's bonny; I can swear she's good, And am right sure she's come of gentle blood ; Of whom I kenna ; — naithing ken I mair, Than what I to your honor now declare.
Good nurse, dispatch thy story winged with blisses, That I may give my cousin fifty kisses.
This tale seems strange ! —
- The tale delights my ear.
Command your joys, young man, till truth appear.
Then it was I that saved her infant life; Her death being threatened by an uncle's wife. The story's lang :- but I the secret knew, How they pursued, with avaricious view, Her rich estate, of which they're now possest. All this to me a confidant confest. I heard with horror, and with trembling dread, They'd smoor the sakeless orphan in her bed. That very night, when all were sunk in rest, At midnight hour the floor I saftly prest, And staw the sleeping innocent away, With whom I travelled some few miles ere day. All day I hid me ; - when the day was done, I kept my journey, lighted by the moon ; Till eastward fifty miles I reached these plains, Where needful plenty glads your cheerful swains. For fear of being found out, and to secure My charge, I laid her at this shepherd's door ; And took a neighboring cottage here, that I, Whate'er should happen to her, might be by, Here honest Glaud himsel and Symon may Remember well, how I that very day Frae Roger's father took my little crove.
GLAUD (with tears of joy running down his beard).
I well remember 't! - Lord reward your love ! Lang have I wished for this ; for aft I thought Sic knowledge some time shou'd about be brought.
That be my task !– Now, sir, bid all be hush ; Peggy may smile, thou hast no cause to blush. Lang have I wished to see this happy day, That I might safely to the truth give way ; That I may now Sir William Worthy name The best and nearest friend that she can claim. He saw't at first, and with quick eye did trace His sister's beauties in her daughter's face.
SIR WILLIAM. Old woman, do not rave ! prove what you say ; 'T is dangerous in affairs like this to play.
My wishes are complete! My joys arise, While I'm haf dizzy with the blest surprise ! And am I, then, a match for my ain lad, That for me so much generous kindness had ? Lang may Sir William bless these happy plains, Happy while Heaven grant he on them remains.
Lang may he live ! — and, Bauldy, learn to steek
Be lang our guardian, still our master be, We'll only crave what you shall please to gie; The estate be yours, my Peggy's ane to me.
I hope your honor now will take amends Of them that sought her life for wicked ends.
The flowing pleasure of this happy day Does fully all I can require repay.
You crowd your bounties, sir !-What can we say, But that we're dyvours that can ne'er repay ? Whate'er your honor wills I shall obey. Roger, my daughter with my blessing take, And still our master's right your business make ; Please him, be faithful, and this auld gray head Shall nod with quietness down among the dead.
I ne'er was good at speaking a' my days, Or ever loo'd to make o'er great a frase ; But for my master, father, and my wife, I will employ the cares of all my life.
TUNE. — 'Corn-riggs are bonny.'
His mind is never muddy,
His face is fair and ruddy ;
He's comely in his wauking ;
'T is heaven to hear him tauking. Last night I met him on a bawk
Where yellow corn was growing ;
That set my heart a glowing.
And loo'd me best of ony ;
O corn-riggs are bonny !
Refuse what maist they're wanting, Since we for yielding were designed,
We chastely should be granting : Then I'll comply and marry Pate,
And syne my cockernony He's free to touzle air and late, Where corn-riggs are bonny.
[Exeunt omnes. ]
My friends, I'm satisfied you'll all behave, Each in his station, as I'd wish or crave. Be ever virtuous, soon or late ye'll find Reward and satisfaction to your mind. The maze of life sometimes looks dark and wild, And aft when hopes are highest we're beguiled ; Aft when we stand on brinks of dark despair, Some happy turn with joy dispels our care. Now all's at rights, who sings best let me hear.
When you demand, I readiest should obey ; I'll sing you ane, the newest that I hae.
Since there thy smiles, my charining maid,
Are with unfeignéd rapture seen,
Here's my hand, come, come away;
A promise, too, my Lucy made
(And shall my heart its claim resign?) That ere May flowers again should fade Her heart and hand should both be mine.
Hark ye, Lucy, this is May;
And the thick, midge-like blossoms round diffuse
STREET'S “ EARLY GARDEN.” When the light flourish of the bluebird sounds, And the south wind comes blandly ; when the sky Is soft in delicate blue, with melting pearl Spotting its bosom, all proclaiming spring, 0, with what joy the garden spot we greet, Wakening from wintry slumbers! As we tread The branching walks, within its hollowed nook We see the violet by some lingering flake Of melting snow, its sweet eye lifting up, As welcoming our presence ; o'er our heads The fruit-tree buds are swelling, and we hail Our grateful task of moulding into form The waste around us. The quick-delving spade Upturns the fresh and odorous earth ; the rake Smoothes the plump bed, and in their furrow'd
graves We drop the seed. The robin stops his work Upon the apple-bough, and flutters down, Stealing, with oft checked and uplifted foot, And watchful gaze bent quickly either side, Toward the fallen wealth of food around the mouth Of the light paper pouch upon the earth. But, fearful of our motions, off he flies, And stoops upon the grub the spade has thrown Loose from its den beside the wounded root. Days pass along. The pattering shower falls down, And then the warming sunshine. Tiny clifts Tell that the seed has turned itself, and now Is pushing up its stem. The verdant pea Looks out ; the twin-leafed, scalloped radish shows Sprinkles of green. The sturdy bean displays Its jaws distended wide, and slightly tongued. The downy cucumber is seen ; the corn Upshoots its close-wrapped spike, and on its mound The young potato sets its tawny ear. Meanwhile the fruit-trees gloriously have broke Into a flush of beauty, and the grape, Casting aside in peels its shrivelled skin, Shows its soft furzy leaf of delicate pink,
HEYWOOD'S “SHEPHERD'S SONG.”
We that have known no greater state Than this we live in, praise our fate ; For courtly silks in cares are spent, When country's russet breeds content. The power of sceptres we admire, But sheep-hooks for our use desire. Simple and low is our condition, For here with us is no ambition : We with the sun our flocks unfold, Whose rising makes their fleeces gold ; Our music from the birds we borrow, They bidding us, we them, good-morrow. Our habits are but coarse and plain, Yet they defend from wind and rain ; As warm, too, in an equal eye, As those bestained in scarlet dye. The shepherd with his homespun lass As many merry hours doth pass, As courtiers with their costly girls, Though richly decked in gold and pearls ; And, though but plain, to purpose woo, Nay, often with less danger too. Those that delight in dainties' store, One stomach feed at once, no more ; And, when with homely fare we feast, With us it doth as well digest; And many times we better speed, For our wild fruits no surfeits breed. If we sometimes the willow wear, By subtle swains that dare forswear, We wonder whence it comes, and fear They've been at court and learnt it there.