'For shame, fond youth, thy sorrows hush,

And spurn the sex,' he said: But while he spoke, a rising blush His love-lorn guest betrayed.

Surprised he sees new beauties rise,
Swift mantling to the view,
Like colours o'er the morning skies,
As bright, as transient too.

The bashful look, the rising breast,
Alternate spread alarms;

The lovely stranger stands confest
A maid in all her charms.

'And ah! forgive a stranger rude,
A wretch forlorn,' she cried,
'Whose feet unhallowed thus intrude
Where heaven and you reside.

'But let a maid thy pity share,
Whom love has taught to stray:
Who seeks for rest, but finds despair
Companion of her way.

'My father lived beside the Tyne,
A wealthy lord was he;

And all his wealth was marked as mine;
He had but only me.

"To win me from his tender arms,
Unnumbered suitors came;
Who praised me for imputed charms,
And felt, or feigned, a flame.

'Each hour a mercenary crowd
With richest proffers strove;
Amongst the rest young Edwin bowed,
But never talked of love.

'In humblest, simplest habit clad,
No wealth nor power had he;
Wisdom and worth were all he had ;
But these were all to me.

'The blossom opening to the day,
The dews of heaven refined,
Could nought of purity display,
To emulate his mind.

'The dew, the blossoms of the tree,
With charms inconstant shine;
Their charms were his; but, woe to me,
Their constancy was mine.

"For still I tried each fickle art, Importunate and vain;

And while his passion touched my heart, I triumphed in his pain.

'Till quite dejected with my scorn, He left me to my pride;

And sought a solitude forlorn,

In secret, where he died!

'But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, And well my life shall pay :

I'll seek the solitude he sought,

And stretch me where he lay.

'And there, forlorn, despairing, hid,
I'll lay me down and die :
'Twas so for me that Edwin did,

And so for him will I.'

'Forbid it, Heaven!' the hermit cried, And clasped her to his breast:

The wondering fair one turned to chide: "Twas Edwin's self that prest!

'Turn, Angelina, ever dear,

My charmer, turn to see

Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here,
Restored to love and thee.

'Thus let me hold thee to my heart,
And every care resign;

And shall we never, never part,
My life-my all that's mine?

'No, never from this hour to part,
We'll live and love so true;
The sigh that rends thy constant heart,
Shall break thy Edwin's too.'

AULD ROBIN GRAY

LADY ANNE BARNARD

WHEN the sheep are in the fauld, when the kye's come hame,

And a' the weary warld to rest are gane,

The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e,
Unkent by my gudeman, wha sleeps sound by me.

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride,

But saving ae crown-piece he had naething beside; To make the crown a pound my Jamie gaed to sea, And the crown and the pound—they were baith for

me.

He hadna been gane a twelvemonth and a day,
When my father brake his arm and the cow was stown
away;

My mither she fell sick-my Jamie was at sea,
And Auld Robin Gray came a courting me.

My father couldna work-my mither couldna spin-
I toiled day and night, but their bread I couldna win ;
Auld Rob maintained them baith, and, wi' tears in

his e'e,

Said: 'Jeanie, O for their sakes, will

ye no marry me?'

My heart it said na, and I looked for Jamie back,
But hard blew the winds, and his ship was a wrack,
His ship was a wrack-why didna Jamie die,
Or why am I spared to cry wae is me?

My father urged me sair-my mither didna speak, But she looked in my face till my heart was like to break;

They gied him my hand-my heart was in the seaAnd so Robin Gray he was gudeman to me.

I hadna been his wife a week but only four,

When, mournfu' as I sat on the stane at my door,
I saw my Jamie's ghaist, for I couldna think it he
Till he said: 'I'm come hame, love, to marry thee!'

Oh, sair sair did we greet, and mickle say of a',
I gied him ae kiss, and bade him gang awa'-

I wish that I were dead, but I'm na like to die,
For, though my heart is broken, I'm but young, wae
is me!

I gang like a ghaist, and I carena much to spin,
I darena think o' Jamie, for that wad be a sin,
But I'll do my best a gude wife to be,

For, oh! Robin Gray, he is kind to me.

WOO'D, AND MARRIED, AND A'.

ALEXANDER ROSS

THE bride cam' out o' the byre,

And, oh, as she dighted her cheeks: 'Sirs, I'm to be married the night,

And have neither blankets nor sheets;

Have neither blankets nor sheets,
Nor scarce a coverlet too;

The bride that has a' thing to borrow,
Has e'en right muckle ado.'
Woo'd, and married, and a’,
Married, and woo'd, and a'!
And was she nae very weel off,
That was woo'd, and married, and a'?

Out spake the bride's father,
As he cam' in frae the pleugh:
'Oh, haud your tongue, my dochter,
And ye 'se get gear eneugh;
The stirk stands i' the tether,
And our braw bawsint yaud,
Will carry ye hame your corn-
What wad ye be at, ye jaud?'

Out spake the bride's mither:
'What deil needs a' this pride?
I hadna a plack in my pouch
That night I was a bride;
My gown was linsey-woolsey,
And ne'er a sark ava;

And ye hae ribbons and buskins,
Mae than ane or twa.'

Out spake the bride's brither,
As he cam' in wi' the kye:
'Poor Willie wad ne'er hae ta'en ye,
Had he kent ye as weel as I;
For ye're baith proud and saucy,
And no for a poor man's wife;

Gin I canna get a better,

I'se ne'er tak ane i' my life.'