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For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, Among bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all; Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word), “ O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, “ Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?” “ I long wooed your daughter, my suit ye denied“Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide“And now I am come, with this lost love of mine, “ To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. 6. There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, “That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar." The bride kissed the goblet ; the knight took it up, He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,“Now tread we a measure!” said young Lochinvar. So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume ; And the bride-maidens whispered, “? Twere better by far “ To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! " She is won ! we are gone! over bank, bush and scaur; 1 “They'll have fleet steeds that follow,” quoth young Lochin var.
There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby clan;
48. — THE FAITHFUL BIRD.
Enjoy'd the open air ;
Lived happy prisoners there.
And frolic where they list;
And therefore never miss’d.
And Dick felt some desires,
A pass between his wires.
But Tom was still confined:
To leave his friend behind.
So settling on his cage, by play,
You must not live alone-
Return'd him to his own.
Fandango, ball, and rout!
To liberty without.
49. – WE ARE SEVEN. A SIMPLE CHILD, dear brother Jim,
That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb,
What can it know of death ? I met a little cottage girl;
She was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl
That cluster'd round her head.
She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad ;
Her beauty made me glad.
“How many may you be ? " “How many ? Seven in all,"'she said,
And, wondering, look'd at me.
“And where are they? I pray you tell !”
She answer'd, “ Seven are we; “ And two of us at Conway dwell;
“And two are gone to sea. “Two of us in the churchyard lie,
“ My sister and my brother ; • And in the churchyard cottage, I
“Dwell near them with my mother.” “You say that two at Conway dwell,
“And two are gone to sea; “Yet you are seven ! I pray you tell,
“Sweet maid, how this may be.” Then did the little maid reply,
“Seven boys and girls are we; “ Two of us in the churchyard lie,
“Beneath the churchyard tree.” “ You run about, my little maid !
“ Your limbs they are alive! “If two are in the churchyard laid,
“ Then you are only five!” “Their graves are green, they may be seen,”
The little maid replied, “Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
“And they are side by side.” “My stockings there I often knit,
“My kerchief there I hem ; “ And there upon the ground I sit
“I sit and sing to them. “ And often after sunset, Sir,
“ When it is light and fair, “ I take my little porringer,
“And eat my supper there.
" The first that died was little Jane;
“In bed she moaning lay, “ Till God released her of her pain,
“And then she went away. “So in the churchyard she was laid;
“And when the grass was dry, “Together round her grave we played,
“My brother John and I.
" And I could run and slide,
“And he lies by her side.”
“If they two are in heaven ?”
“O Master! we are seven."
« Their spirits are in heaven!”
50. — POOR DOG TRAY. On the green banks of Shannon when Sheelah was nigh, No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I; No harp like my own could so cheerily play, And wherever I went was my poor dog Tray. When at last I was forced from my Sheelah to part, She said, (while the sorrow was big at her heart,) Oh! remember your Sheelah when far, far away: And be kind, my dear Pat, to our poor dog Tray.