'Tis past, that melancholy dream! To love thee more and more. Among thy mountains did I feel And she I cherish'd turn'd her wheel Thy mornings show'd, thy nights conceal'd W. Wordsworth CLXXIX THE EDUCATION OF NATURE Three years she grew in sun and shower; This child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make 'Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse: and with me The girl, in rock and plain In earth and heaven, in glade and bower Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain. 'She shall be sportive as the fawn That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs; And her's shall be the breathing balm, And her's the silence and the calm Of mute insensate things. 'The floating clouds their state shall lend To her; for her the willow bend; N Nor shall she fail to see E'en in the motions of the storm Grace that shall mould the maiden's form By silent sympathy. 'The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face. 'And vital feelings of delight Shall rear her form to stately height, Her virgin bosom swell; Such thoughts to Lucy I will give While she and I together live Here in this happy dell.' Thus Nature spake-The work was doneHow soon my Lucy's race was run ! She died, and left to me This heath, this calm and quiet scene; The memory of what has been, And never more will be. W. Wordsworth CLXXX A slumber did my spirit seal; No motion has she now, no force; W. Wordsworth CLXXXI LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER A Chieftain to the Highlands bound 'Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle 'And fast before her father's men 'His horsemen hard behind us ride- Out spoke the hardy Highland wight : And by my word! the bonny bird In danger shall not tarry; So though the waves are raging white I'll row you o'er the ferry.' By this the storm grew loud apace, But still as wilder blew the wind 'O haste thee, haste !' the lady cries, Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.' The boat has left a stormy land, When, O! too strong for human hand And still they row'd amidst the roar Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore,- For, sore dismay'd, through storm and shade One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid, And one was round her lover. 'Come back! come back!' he cried in grief 'Across this stormy water: And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter!-O my daughter!' 'Twas vain the loud waves lash'd the shore, Return or aid preventing : The waters wild went o'er his child, And he was left lamenting. T. Campbell CLXXXII JOCK O' HAZELDEAN 'Why weep ye by the tide, ladie ? But aye she loot the tears down fa' 'Now let this wilfu' grief be done, 'A chain of gold ye sall not lack, The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide, The priest and bridegroom wait the bride, The ladie was not seen! She's o'er the Border, and awa' Sir W. Scott CLXXXIII FREEDOM AND LOVE How delicious is the winning Yet remember, 'midst your wooing, |