"T was summer eve,-the heavens aboveEarth, ocean, air, were full of love; Nature around kept jubilee,
When first I breathed that tale to thee!
The crystal arch that hung on high
Was blue as thy delicious eye;-
The stirless shore, and sleeping sea,
Seemed emblems of repose and thee!
I spoke of hope,—I spoke of fear;·
Thy answer was a blush and tear;-
But this was eloquence to me,
And more than I had asked of thee!
I looked into thy dewy eye,
And echoed thy half-stifled sigh,—
I clasped thy hand, and vowed to be
The soul of love and truth to thee!
That scene and hour have past; yet still
Remains a deep impassioned thrill,—
A sun-set glow on memory,
Which kindles at a thought of thee!
We loved :- how wildly, and how well,
'T were worse than idle now to tell!
From love and life alike thou 'rt free,
And I am left- to think of thee!
Though years-long years—have darkly sped Since thou wert numbered with the dead,
In fancy oft thy form I see,
In dreams, at least, I'm still with thee!
Thy beauty-helplessness—and youth,—
Thy hapless fate-untiring truth,—
Are spells that often touch the key
Of sweet but mournful thoughts of thee!
The bitter frown of friends estranged;
The chilling straits of fortunes changed;
All this, and more, thou 'st borne for me:
Then how can I be false to thee?
I never will!-I'll think of thee
Till fades the power of memory!-
In weal or woe,-in gloom or glee,—
I'LL THINK OF THEE!-I'LL THINK OF THEE!
BY MRS. CHARLES GORE.
He said my brow was fair, 'tis true;
He said mine eye had stol'n its blue
From yon ethereal vault above!
Yet still-he never spake of love.
He said my step was light, I own ;
He said my voice had won its tone
From some wild linnet of the grove!
Yet still he never spake of love.
He said my cheek looked pale with thought;
He said my gentle looks had caught
Their modest softness from the dove!
Yet still-he never spake of love.
He said, that bright with hopes divine
The heart should be to blend with mine;
Fixed where no stormy passions move!
Yet still-he never spake of love.
He said--but wherefore should I tell
Those whispered words I loved so well?
Could I reject-could I reprove-
While still he never space of love?
THE sun of the morning looked forth from his throne,
And beamed on the face of the dead and the dying;
For the yell of the strife, like the thunder, had flown,
And red on Gilboa the carnage was lying.
And there lay the husband that lately was prest
To the beautiful cheek that was tearless and ruddy;
But the claws of the eagle were fixed in his breast,
And the beak of the vulture was busy and bloody.
And there lay the son of the widowed and sad,
Who yesterday went from her dwelling for eyer;
Now the wolf of the hills a sweet carnival had
On the delicate limb that had ceased not to quiver!
And there came the daughter, the delicate child,
To hold up the head that was breathless and hoary;
And there came the maiden, all frantic and wild,
To kiss the loved lips that were gasping and gory.
And there came the consort that struggled in vain
To stem the red tide, of a spouse that bereft her;
And there came the mother that sunk 'mid the slain,
Το
weep o'er the last human stay that was left her!
Oh! bloody Gilboa! a curse ever lie
Where the king and his people were slaughtered together; May the dew and the rain leave thy herbage to die,
Thy flocks to decay, and thy forests to wither!
BEHAVE YOURSEL' BEFORE FOLK.
BEHAVE yoursel' before folk,
Behave yoursel' before folk,
And dinna be sae rude to me,
As kiss me sae before folk.
It wouldna' give me meikle pain,
Gin we were seen and heard by nane,
To tak' a kiss, or grant you ane;
But gudesake! no before folk.
Behave yoursel' before folk,
Consider, lad, how folks will crack,
And what a great affair they 'll mak'
O' naething but a simple smack,
That's gi'en or ta'en before folk.
Behave yoursel' before folk,
Behave yoursel' before folk-
Nor gi'e the tongue o' old and young
Occasion to come o'er folk.
I'm sure wi' you I've been as free
As ony modest lass should be ;
But yet it doesna' do to see
Sic freedom used before folk.
Behave yoursel' before folk,
Behave yoursel' before folk-
I'll ne'er submit again to it;
So mind you that—before folk!
Ye tell me that my face is fair:
It
may be sae-I dinna care-
But ne'er again gar't blush so sair
As ye hae done before folk.
Behave yoursel' before folk,
Behave yoursel' before folk,-
Nor heat my cheeks wi' your mad freaks,
But aye be douce before folk!
Ye tell me that my lips are sweet:
Sic tales, I doubt, are a' deceit ; -
At ony rate, it's hardly meet
To prie their sweets before folk.
Behave yoursel' before folk,
Behave yoursel' before folk
Gin that's the case, there's time and place, But surely no before folk!
But gin ye really do insist
That I should suffer to be kissed,
Gae get a license frae the priest,
And mak' me yours before folk!
Behave yoursel' before folk,
Behave yoursel' before folk—
And when we 're ane, baith flesh and bane, Ye may tak' ten-before folk!
|