They told me not to love him, They told me not to love him!

They said that he would prove
Unworthy of so rich a gem,

As woman's peerless love.
But I believ'd them not, oh! no,
I knew it could not be,

That one so false as they thought him,
Could be as dear to me.

They told me not to love him!
They said he was not true,
And bade me have a care, lest I
Should do what I might rue :
At first I scorn'd their warnings-for
I could not think that he
Conceal'd beneath so fair a brow,
A heart of perfidy.

They told me to discard him!

They said he meant me ill-
They darkly spoke of fiends that lure,
And smile, and kiss, and-kill!

I all unheeding heard them, for
I knew it could not be,

That one so false as they thought him
Could be so dear to me.

But they forc'd me to discard him!
Yet I could not cease to love-
For our mutual vows recorded were
By angel hands above.

He left his boyhood's home, and sought
Forgetfulness afar;

But memory stung him,-and he fought, And fell, in glorious war.

P

He dwells in Heaven now,-while I
Am doom'd to this dull earth;
Oh! how my sad soul longs to break
Away, and wander forth:

From star to star its course would be-
Unresting it would go,

Till we united were above,
Who severed were below.

The Sailor's Return.
A Sequel to BLACK-EYED SUSan.
The moon had burst the clouds of heaven,
When Susan sought the wreck-strewn shore,
By grief and woe her bosom riven,

Her shipwreck'd William to deplore':
While gazing on the watery waste,
A floating form her eye descried,
And the next heaving billow placed
Her lover by the maiden's side.

"Susan, for thee the storm I braved,
While angry surges round me roar'd,
And see, by bounteous mercy saved,
Thy sailor to thine arms restored!"
His well-known voice her fears beguiled,
His glowing kiss her sorrows dried;
And the next morning's sunbeams smiled
On Susan as her William's bride!

Too many Lovers.

Young Susan had lovers so many that she
Hardly knew upon which to decide;
They all spoke sincerely and promised to be
So worthy of such a sweet bride.

In the morning she'd gossip with William, and then
The noon would be spent with young Harry,

The evening with John, so amongst all the men She never could tell which to marry.

Heigho! heigho! I'm afraid,

Too many lovers will puzzle a maid.

Now William grew jealous and so went away, And Harry got tired of wooing,

And John having teased her to fix on the day,
Received only frowns for so doing.

So amongst all her lovers, quite left in the lurch,
She wept every night on her pillow;
And meeting, one day, a pair going to church,
Turn'd away, and died under a willow.
Heigho! heigho! I'm afraid, &c.

The Lily of Nithsdale.

She's gane to dwall in heaven, my lassie,
She's gane to dwall in heaven,
'Ye're owre pure,' quo' a voice aboon,
'For dwalling out o' heaven.'

O what'll she do in heaven, my lassie ?
O what'll she do in heaven?

She'll mix her thoughts wi' angels' sangs,
An' make them mair meet for heaven.

She was beloved of a', my lassie;

She was beloved of a';

But an angel fell in love wi' her,
And took her frae us a'.

Low there she lies, my lassie,
Low there she lies.

A bonnier form ne'er went to the yird,
Nor frae it will arise.

There's not but dust now mine, my lassie,
There's nought but dust now mine;

My soul's wi' thee i' the cauld, cauld grave,
An' why should I stay behin'?

I look'd on thy death-shut eye, my lassie,
I look'd on thy death-shut eye;

An' a lovelier sight in the brow o' heaven
Fell time shall ne'er destroy.

Thy lips were ruddie and calm, my lassie,
Thy lips were ruddie and calm;
But gane was the holy breath o' heaven
To sing the evening psalm.

Lovers' Vows.

When should lovers breathe their vows?
When should ladies hear them?
When the dew is on the boughs,

When none else are near them.
When the moon shines cold and pale,

When the birds are sleeping,
When no voice is on the gale,
When the rose is weeping.
Oh! softest is the cheek's love ray,
When seen by moonlight hours,
Other roses seek the day,

But blushes are night flowers.
When the moon and stars are bright,
When the dew-drops glisten,
Then their vows should lovers plight,
Then should ladies listen.

Farewell to my Harp.

Dear harp of my country! in darkness I found thee, The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long, When proudly, my own Island Harp, I unbound thee, And gave all thy chords to light, freedom and song.

The warm lay of love, and the light note of gladness, Have waken'd thy fondest, thy liveliest thrill; But so oft hast thou echoed the deep sigh of sadness,

That even in thy mirth it will steal from thee still Dear Harp of my country! farewell to thy numbers, This sweet wreath of song is the last we shall twine,

Go: sleep with the sunshine of fame on thy slumbers, Till touch'd by some hand, less unworthy than mine.

If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover,

Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone; I was but as the wind passing heedlessly over, And all the wild sweetness I wak'd was thy own!

The Wine Cellar.

I knew by the smell which so gratefully rose,
And cheered up my heart, a wine cellar was near,
And I said if a man wished a jolly carouse,

4

The soul that is thirsty might look for it here:
Every leaf was at rest, and I heard not a sound,
But the old butler tapping the sherry for me.
And here in this round bellied cask, I exclaimed,
Is a mistress so lovely to soul and to eye,
That with her no mortal could fairly be blamed
Who might happily live and most jollily die.
Every leaf was at rest, &c.

'Neath the shade of yon arch, where the damp slowly drips,

And the cobwebs and sawdust so sweetly entwine, Flows a stream, which I know, as I pour through my lips,

Has never been tasted by any but mine.

Every leaf was at rest, &c.