The Dying Exile.

If but for one last look to bless

Thy hills and deep blue sky, And all my love for thee confess : Then lay me down and die.

But now I am alone, and none
Will hear when I am dead :
Perchance ere sets that glorious sun
My spirit shall be fled!

I watch him yet—and faintly smile
In death, to think that he
Will rise so bright upon that isle,
Where I may never be;

My country! while I bless thee, how
My feelings in me swell:

Alas, I never knew till now

I loved thee half so well!

But when alone among strange men,

When friends forget, and false ones flee;
Something the heart must love, and then
It can but turn to thee!

Farewell, farewell! the sun's last gleams
Are sinking in the sea:

Along the shore the sea-bird screams,
Unheard, unreck'd by me;

I feel my ebbing breath decay,
And fail my darkening sight:
Yet ere I pass away, away,

My native land-good night!

391

I

Song.

BY JAMES HOGG.

LOOKIT east-I lookit west,

I saw the darksome coming even; The wild bird sought its cozy nest, The kid was to the hamlet driven; But house nor hame aneath the heaven, Except the sheugh of greenwood tree, To seek a shelter it was given, To my three little bairns and me.

I had a prayer I couldna pray,
I had a vow I couldna breathe,
For aye they led my words astray,
And aye they were connected baith
Wi' ane wha now was cauld in death.
I lookit round wi' watery ee-
Hope wasna there-but I was laith
To see my little babies dee.

Just as the breeze the aspen stirr'd,
And bore aslant the falling dew,
I thought I heard a bonny bird
Singing amid the air-sea blue;
It was a lay that did renew
The hope deep sunk in misery;
It was of one my woes that knew,
And ae kind heart that cared for me.

Oh, sweet as breaks the rising day,
Or sunbeam through the wavy rain,
Fell on my soul the charming lay!
Was it an angel pour'd the strain?

The Warrior.

Whoe'er has kenn'd a mother's pain,
Bent o'er the child upon her knee,
Oh, they will bless, and bless again,
The generous heart that cares for me!

A cot was rear'd by Mercy's hand
Amid the dreary wilderness,

It rose as if by magic wand,

A shelter to forlorn distress:

And weel I ken that Heaven will bless

The heart that issued the decree,

The widow and the fatherless

Can never pray and slighted be.

The Warrior.

BY ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

HIS foot's in the stirrup,

His hand's on the mane

He is up and away,

Shall we see him again? He thinks on his ladye-love,

Little he heeds

The levelling of lances,

Or rushing of steeds: He thinks on his true love,

And rides in an armour

Of proof, woven sure

By the spells of his charmer.

393

How young, and how comely-
Lo! look on him now,

How steadfast his eye,

And how tranquil his brow!
The gift of his ladye-love
Glitters full gay,

As down, like the eagle,
He pours on his prey.
Go, sing it in song;

And go, tell it in story—
He went in his strength,

And return'd in his glory.

The Fisher.

FROM THE GERMAN OF GOETHE.

HE water roll'd-the water swell'd,

THE

A fisher sat beside;

Calmly his patient watch he held

Beside the freshening tide :

And while his patient watch he keeps,

The parted waters rose,

And from the oozy ocean deeps

A water maiden rose.

She spake to him, she sang to him— "Why lurest thou so my brood,

With cunning art and cruel heart,
From out their native flood?

395

To May.

Ah! couldst thou know, how here below

Our peaceful lives glide o'er,

Thou'dst leave thine earth, and plunge beneath,
To seek our happier shore.

"Bathes not the golden sun his face

The moon too in the sea;

And rise they not from their resting-place
More beautiful to see?

And lures thee not the clear deep heaven
Within the waters blue-

And thy form so fair, so mirror'd there
In that eternal dew!"

The water roll'd-the water swell'd,
It reach'd his naked feet;
He felt, as at his love's approach,
His bounding bosom beat:
She spake to him, she sang to him,
His short suspense is o'er ;

Half drew she him, half dropp'd he in,
And sank to rise no more.

To May.

BY LORD THURLOW.

MAY, queen of blossoms,

And fulfilling flowers,

With what pretty music

Shall we charm the hours;