Still on thy banks so gaily green,

May numerous herds and flocks be seen,
And lasses chanting o'er the pail,

And shepherds piping in the dale;

And ancient faith that knows no guile,

And industry embrowned with toil;
And hearts resolved, and hands prepared,
The blessings they enjoy to guard!

THE FA' O' IHE YEAR.

THOMAS SMIBERT.

AFORE the Lammas' tide had dun'd the birken-tree,

In a' our water-side nae wife was blest like me;
A kind gudeman, and twa sweet bairns were round me here;
But they're ta'en a' awa', sin' the fa' o' the year.

Sair trouble cam' our gate, an' made me, when it cam',
A bird without a mate, a ewe without a lamb.

Our hay was yet to maw, and our corn was to shear,
When they a' dwined awa' in the fa' o' the year.

I downa look a-field, for aye I trow I see

The form that was a bield to my wee bairns and me;

But wind, and weet, and snaw, they never mair can fear, Sin' they a' got the ca' in the fa' o' the year.

Aft on the hill at e'ens I see him amang the ferns,
The lover o' my teens, the faither o' my bairns;
For there his plaid I saw as gloamin' aye drew near-
But my a's now awa' sin' the fa' o' the year.

Our bonny rigs theirsel' reca' my waes to mind,

Our puir dumb beasties tell o' a' that I hae tyned;

For wha our wheat will saw, and wha our sheep will shear, Sin' my a' gaed awa' in the fa' o' the year?

My hearth is growing cauld, and will be caulder still;
And sair, sair in the fauld will be the winter's chill;
For peats were yet to ca'-our sheep were yet to smear,
When my a' dwined awa' in the fa' o' the year.

I ettle whiles to spin, but wee, wee patterin' feet
Come rinnin' out and in, and then I just maun greet:

I ken it's fancy a', and faster rows the tear,
That my a' dwined awa' in the fa' o' the year.

Be kind, O Heav'n abune! to ane sae wae and lane, And tak' her hamewards sune, in pity o' her mane; Lang ere the March winds blaw, may she, far far frae he Meet them a' that's awa' sin' the fa' o' the year

TO A CHILD.

JOANNA BAILLIE

WHOSE imp art thou, with dimpled cheek,
And curly pate and merry eye,

And arm and shoulders round and sleek,
And soft and fair? thou urchin sly?

What boots it who, with sweet caresses,
First called thee his, or squire or hind?

For thou in every wight that passes,
Dost now a friendly playmate find.

Thy downcast glances, grave but cunning,
As fringéd eyelids rise and fall,

Thy shyness, swiftly from me running,—
"Tis infantine coquetry all!

But far afield thou hast not flown,

With mocks and threats, half-lisped, half-spoken,

I feel thee pulling at my gown;

Of right good-will, thy simple token.

And thou must laugh and wrestle too,
A mimic warfare with me waging,
To make, as wily lovers do,

Thy after kindness more engaging.

The wilding rose, sweet as thyself,

And new-cropt daisies are thy treasure:

I'd gladly part with worldly pelf,

To taste again thy youthful pleasure.

But yet for all thy merry look,

Thy frisks and wiles, the time is coming, When thou shalt sit in cheerless nook,

The weary spell or horn-book thumbing.

Well! let it be! through weal and woe, Thou know'st not now thy future range; Life is a motley, shifting show,

And thou, a thing of hope and change.

IHE ENĮ GRAVI.

FAST by the margin of a mossy rill,

That wander'd, gurgling, down a heath-clad hill,
An ancient shepherd stood, oppress'd with woe,
And ey'd the ocean's flood that foam❜d below;
Where, gently rocking on the rising tide,
A ship's unwonted form was seen to ride.
Unwonted, well I ween, for ne'er before
Had touch'd one keel the solitary shore;
Nor had the swain's rude footsteps ever stray'd,
Beyond the shelter of his native shade.
His few remaining hairs were silver gray,
And his rough face had seen a better day.
Around him, bleating, stray'd a scanty flock k;
And a few goats o'erhung a neighb'ring rock.
One faithful dog his sorrows seem'd to share,
And strove, with many a trick, to ease his care.
While o'er his furrow'd cheek, the salt drops ran,
He tun'd his rustic reed, and thus began.-

"Farewell! farewell! dear Caledonia's strand; Rough though they be, yet still my native land: