« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »
Let the scene, that tells how fast
Youth is passing over,
To secure her lover.
Woo her when the north winds call
At the lattice nightly;
Blaze the fagots brightly ;
Sweeps the landscape hoary,
W. C. BRYANT.
COMPOSED BY THE SIDE OF GRASMERE LAKE, 1807.
TLOUDS, lingering yet, extend in solid bars
reeds, “ Be thankful, thou; for, if unholy deeds Ravage the world, tranquillity is here!"
N Linden, when the sun was low,
All bloodless lay th' untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow
Of Iser, rolling rapidly :
But Linden saw another sight,
The darkness of her scenery.
By torch and trumpet fast array'd,
To join the dreadful revelry.
Then shook the hills with thunder riven,
Far flash'd the red artillery.
But redder yet that light shall glow
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.
'Tis morn, but scarce yon
level Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank, and fiery Hun,
Shout in their sulph’rous canopy.
The combat deepens. On, ye brave,
Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave,
And charge with all thy chivalry!
Few, few, shall part where many meet !
turf beneath their feet
FROM THE PORTUGUESE.
Ow do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith ; I love thee with a love I seem'd to lose With
my lost saints,- I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life !—and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.
Walk'd ower yon garden green ;
That fell thir twa between.
“ A bed, a bed,” Clerk Saunders said,
“ A bed for you and me!” " Fye na, fye na," said may Margaret, "66 Till anes we married be."
“ Then I'll take the sword frae my scabbard,
And slowly lift the pin ;
Ye never let me in.
“ Take you a napkin in your hand,
Tie up your bonnie e'en, And
you may swear and save your aith, Ye saw me na since yestreen."
It was about the midnight hour
When they asleep were laid,
Wi' torches burning red :
When in and came her seven brothers
Wi' torches burning bright;
And behold her lying with a knight!”
Then out and spake the first o' them,
“ We will awa' and let them be.” And out and spake the second o' them,
“ His father has nae mair but he.”
And out and spake the third o' them,
“I wot that they are lovers dear.” And out and spake the fourth o' them,
They hae been in love this mony a year.”
Then out and spake the fifth o' them,
“ It were great sin true love to twain.” And out and spake the sixth o' them,
“ It were shame to slay a sleeping man.”
and gat the seventh o' them, And never a word spake he; But he has striped his bright brown brand
Out through Clerk Saunders' fair bodye.
Clerk Saunders he started, and Margaret she turn'd
Into his arms as asleep she lay ; And sad and silent was the night
That was atween thir twae.
And they lay still and sleepit sound,
Until the day began to dawe, And kindly to him she did say,
“ It is time, true love, you were awa'.”
But he lay still, and sleepit sound,
Albeit the sun began to sheen; She look'd atween her and the wa',
And dull and drowsie were his e'en.
Then in and came her father dear;
Said—“ Let a' your mourning be;