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He died !- Upon the desart gale
up his eagle shafts to sail ;
Whose is the hand that now shall rear,
and with our father fell
This pledge of affection, dear Ellen, receive,
From a youth who's devoted to thee ; And when on the relic you look, love, believe,
Thy Edward still constant will be;
whole train joined at intervals, sounded most sweet. Their voices were deep and regular; and as the long procession moved slowly away into the desart with their diminishing forms and fading chorus, they gave us the idea of a train solemnly passing into the shades of eternity. The present translation of their song or hymn was collected from one of our boatmen, who had paid particular attention to it.”.
The gift thou hast woven, I'll wear near my heart,
And oft the dear token will prove
A joyful remembrance of love.
Nay, weep not, sweet maid, though thy sailor, awhile,
Must roam o'er the boisterous main,
And we shall meet happy again :
The signal floats high in our view;
Adieu, dearest Ellen, adieu.
I SAW THEE WEEP.
I saw thee weep-the big bright tear
Came Q'er that eye of blue;
A violet dropping dew.
I saw thee smile-the sapphire's blaze
Beside thee ceas'd to shine;
That fill'd that glance of thine.
As clouds from yonder sun receive
A deep and mellow dye,
Can banish from the sky,
Their own pure joy impart;
That lightens o'er the heart.
NOW SPRING HAS CLAD THE GROVE IN
AIR.—The hopeless lover.
Now Spring has clad the grove in green,
And strew'd the lea with flowers;
Rejoice in fostering showers,
While ilka thing in nature join
Their sorrows to forego,
The weary steps of woe!
The trout within yon wimpling burn,
That glides a silver dart,
Defies the angler's art :
That wanton trout was I,
Has scorch'd my fountain dry.
The little flowret's peaceful lot,
In yonder cliff that grows,
Nae ruder visit knows,
And blighted a' my bloom;
My youth and joy consume.
The waken'd lavrock warbling springs,
And climbs the early sky,
In rosy morning's eye;
Until the flowery snare
O had my fate been Greenland snows,
Or Afric's burning zone,
So Peggy ne'er I'd known!
What tongue his woes can tell,
Nae kinder spirits dwell.
NAE MAIR WE'LL MEET, &c.
AIR,We'll meet beside the dusky glen.
Nae mair we'll meet again, my love, by yon burn side,
Ne'er again the mavis' lay
Will we hail at close o' day,
et mem'ry oft will fondly brood, on yon burn side, O'er haunts which we sae aft hae trod, by yon burn side,
Still the walk wi' me thou'lt share,
Though thy foot can never mair