"I saw their starv'd lips in the gloam, With horrid warning gaped wide, And I awoke and found me here, On the cold hill's side. XII. "And this is why I sojourn here, Alone and palely loitering, Though the sedge is withered from the lake, And no birds sing." ----J. Keats. [Illustration: 0191] THE ROSE AND THE FAIR LILY |The Earlsburn Glen is gay and green, The Earlsburn water cleir, And blythely blume on Earlsburn bank The broom and eke the brier! Twa sisters gaed up Earlsburn Glen-- Twa maidens bricht o' blee-- The tane she was the Rose sae red, The tither the fair Lilye! "Ye mauna droop and dwyne, sister"-- Said Rose to fair Lilye-- "Yer heart ye mauna brek, sister-- For ane that's ower the sea; "The vows we sillie maidens hear Frae wild and wilfu' man, Are as the words the waves wash out When traced upon the san'." "I mauna think yer speech is sooth," Saft answered the Lilye; "I winna dout mine ain gude knicht Tho' he's ayont the sea!" Then scornfully the Rose sae red Spake to the puir Lilye-- "The vows he feigned at thy bouir door, He plicht in mine to me!" "HI hame and spread the sheets, sister, And deck my bed sae hie-- The bed sae wide made for a bride For I think I sune sal die! "Your weird I sal na be, sister, As mine I fear ye've bin-- Your luve I wil na cross, sister, It were a mortal sin!" Earlsburn Glen is green to see, Earlsburn water cleir-- Of the siller birk in Earlsburn Wood They framit the maiden's bier! There's a lonely dame in a gudely bouir, She never lifts an ee-- That dame was ance the Rose sae red, She is now a pale Lilye. A knicht aft looks frae his turret tall, Where the kirk-yaird grass grows green; He wonne the weed and lost the flouir, And grief aye dims his een. At noon of nicht, in the moonshine bricht, The warrior kneels in prayer-- He prays wi' his face to the auld kirk-yaird, And wishes he were there! ----W. Motherwell. FAITHLESS SALLY BROWN |Young Ben he was a nice young man, A carpenter by trade; And he fell in love with Sally Brown, That was a lady's maid. But as they fetched a walk one day, They met a press-gang crew; And Sally she did faint away, Whilst Ben he was brought to. The Boatswain swore with wicked words, Enough to shock a saint, That though she did seem in a fit, 'Twas nothing but a feint. "Come, girl," said he, "hold up your head, He'll be as good as me; For when your swain is in our boat, A boatswain he will be." So when they'd made their game of her, And taken off her elf, She roused, and found she only was A coming to herself. "And is he gone, and is he gone?" She cried, and wept outright: "Then I will to the water side, And see him out of sight."