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His eye was on the bell and float-
Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair;
SCOTTISH BALLAD. Fair Lady Ann sat in her bower,
Adown by the green wode syde ; And the flowres did spring, and the byrdes did sing,
'Twas the merry Mayday tyde. But fair Lady Ann on Sir William calld,
Wi the tear so big in her ee*, 0, though thou be fause, may Heaven thee guard
In the wars ayond the sea !
A’ nakit as they were borne ;
Upo the simmer's morn.
Among the frost and the sna,
A-playing at the ba’.
Now listen, thou faire ladie,
| Lesson, instruction.
'Tis I am Peter, and this is Paul,
And that ane sae fair to see
To join with our companie.
The bonniest o' the three.
0, what wad ze do wi me?' 'Tis I wad cleed thee in silk and gowd ,
And nourice thee on my knee! • O mither, mither, when I was thine,
Sic & kindness I could nae see.
The fause nurse buried me,
Along the frosty air ;
Heaven grants him to my prayer !
She flew in joyous mood;
And linger'd in the wood.
I've sigh’d for this bless'd hour !
• Bar well the gate, for foes are nigh:
And bring my child.'-'Tis late,
Till morn, dear Edric, wait.'
He heard an infant's wail ;
Her boy o'er hill and dale.
Tears frozen on his face ;-
THE OTAHEITAN MOURNER.
(Peggy Stewart was the daughter of an Otabeitan chief, and
married to one of the mutineers of the Bounty. On Stewart's being seized and carried away in the Pandora Frigate, Peggy fell into a rapid decay, and in two months died of a broken heart, leaving an infant daughter, who is still living.]
FROM the isle of the distant ocean
My white love came to me;
Beneath the spreading tree.
I strew'd his pillow there,
So gentle and so fair.
Or he could talk in mine,
And never to resign.
0, then 'twas lovely watching
The sparkling of his eyes,
And answer all his sighs.
To play upon the wave,
And the curling surge to brave.
Like dolphins on the tide; To dive beneath the billow,
Or the rolling surf to ride. To summer groves I led him,
Where fruit hangs in the sun; We linger'd by the fountains
That murmur as they run. By the verdant islands sailing,
Where the crested seabirds go, We heard the dash of the distant spray, And saw through the deeps the sunbeams play,
In the coral bowers below. And when my lover, weary,
To our woodland couch would creep, I sang the song that pleased him,
And crown'd bis lids with sleep. My kindred much would wonder,
The white man's love to see;
Would often envy me.
Would sadden with despair,
Should start and quiver there.