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Hot midsummer's petted crone,
Aught unsavoury or unclean,
insect never seen, But violets and bilberry bells, Maple sap and daffodels, Grass with green flag half-mast high, Succory to match the sky, Columbine with horn of honey, Scented fern, and agrimony, Clover, catch-fly, adder's-tongue, And briar-roses dwelt among ; All beside was unknown waste, All was picture as he pass'd.
Wiser far than human seer,
E that loves a rosie cheeke,
Or a corall lip admires,
Fuel to maintain his fires ;
But a smooth and stedfast minde,
Gentle thoughts and calm desires,
Kindle never-dying fires.
No tears, Celia, now shall win
My resolved hearte to return;
And find nought but pride and scorn;
AULD ROBIN GRAY.
HEN the sheep are in the fauld and the
kye at hame, And a' the weary warld to sleep are gane, The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e, While my gudeman lies sound by me.
Young Jamie lo’ed me weel, and sought me for
his bride; But saving a crown he had naething else beside. To mak’ the crown a pound, my Jamie gaed to sea; And the crown and the pound were baith for me. He hadna been gane a year and a day, When my father brake his arm, and our cow was
stown away; My mither she fell sick, and Jamie at the sea ; And Auld Robin Gray cam' a-courting me. My father couldna' work, and my mither doughtna
spin, I toil'd day and night, but their bread I couldna
win; Auld Rab maintain'd them baith, and wi' tears in
his e'e, Said, “ Jenny, for their sakes, O marry
me!” My heart it said na ; I look'd for Jamie back; But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a
wrack; His ship it was a wrack,—why didna Jenny dee? O why do I live, to cry, Wae's me! My father urgit sair, my mither didna speak, But she lookit in my face till my heart was like to
break. They gied him my hand, though my heart was at
Sae Auld Robin Gray he is gudeman to me.
O sair did we greet, and muckle did we say ;
gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin. I darena think on Jamie, for that wad be a sin. But I'll do my best a gude wife to be; For Auld Robin Gray is kind to me.
LADY ANNE LINDSAY.
SUNNY shaft did I behold,
From sky to earth it slanted,
Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted !
Within that shaft of sunny mist;
of fire, his beak of gold,
66 Adieu! adieu !
Sweet month of May,
MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. (LANDING AT THE MOUTH OF THE DERWENT,
EAR to the Loves and to the Graces vow'd,
LINES COMPOSED IN A CONCERT
GIVE me, from this heartless scene released,
To hear our old musician, blind and gray, (Whom stretching from my nurse's arms I kiss 'd)