Proud Maisie is in the wood, Walking so early; Sweet Robin sits on the bush, Singing so rarely. ‘Tell me, thou bonny bird, 5 When shall I marry me?’ --‘When six braw gentlemen Kirkward shall carry ye.’ ‘Who makes the bridal bed, Birdie, say truly?’ 10 --‘The gray-headed sexton That delves the grave duly. ‘The glowworm o’er grave and stone Shall light thee steady; The owl from the steeple sing, 15 Welcome, proud lady.’ _Sir Walter Scott._ CXC _AN HOUR WITH THEE._ An hour with thee!--When earliest day Dapples with gold the eastern gray, Oh, what can frame my mind to bear The toil and turmoil, cark and care, New griefs, which coming hours unfold, 5 And sad remembrance of the old?-- One hour with thee. One hour with thee!--When burning June Waves his red flag at pitch of noon; What shall repay the faithful swain 10 His labour on the sultry plain; And more than cave or sheltering bough, Cool feverish blood, and throbbing brow?-- One hour with thee. One hour with thee!--When sun is set, 15 Oh, what can teach me to forget The thankless labours of the day, The hopes, the wishes, flung away, The increasing wants, and lessening gains, The master’s pride, who scorns my pains?-- 20 One hour with thee. _Sir Walter Scott._ CXCI _THE FUGITIVES._ The waters are flashing, The white hail is dashing, The lightnings are glancing, The hoar-spray is dancing-- Away! 5 The whirlwind is rolling, The thunder is tolling, The forest is swinging, The minster bells ringing-- Come away! 10 The earth is like ocean, Wreck-strewn and in motion: Bird, beast, man, and worm, Have crept out of the storm-- Come away! 15 ‘Our boat has one sail, And the helmsman is pale;--A bold pilot I trow, Who should follow us now,’ Shouted He-- 20 And She cried: ‘Ply the oar, Put off gaily from shore!’ As she spoke bolts of death, Mixed with hail, specked their path O’er the sea. 25 And from isle, tower, and rock, The blue beacon-cloud broke, Though dumb in the blast, The red cannon flashed fast From the lee. 30