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71.-WITHIN KING'S COLLEGE CHAPEL,
CAMBRIDGE. Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense, With ill-match'd aims the Architect who plann'd (Albeit labouring for a scanty band Of white-robed Scholars only) this immense And glorious work of fine intelligence! Give all thou canst ; high Heaven rejects the lore Of nicely calculated less or more:So deem'd the man who fashion'd for the sense These lofty pillars, spread that branching roof Self poised, and scoop'd into ten thousand cells Where light and shade repose, where music dwells Lingering and wandering on as loth to die Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof That they were born for immortality
72. — THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE
Did you admire my lamp, quoth he,
73.—INCIDENT; CHARACTERISTIC OF A
Goes to learn how all things fare ;
Sheep and cattle eyes with care;
Off they fly in earnest chase ;
All the four are in the race!
Thinly by a one night's frost ;
But the nimble hare hath trusted
To the ice, and safely crost ;
See them cleaving to the sport!
Little Music, she stops short. She hath neither wish nor heart, Hers is now another part: A loving creature she, and brave ! And fondly strives her struggling friend to save. From the brink her paws she stretches,
Very hands as you would say ! And afflicting moans she fetches,
As he breaks the ice away. For herself she hath no fears, Him alone she sees and hears, Makes efforts with complaining ; nor gives o'er, Until her fellow sinks to re-appear no more.
74.—THERE'S NAE LUCK ABOUT THE
And are ye sure he's weel ?
Ye jades, fling by your wheel !
There's nae luck at a';
Is this a time to think o' wark,
When Colin's at the door ?
And see him come ashore.
Put on the mickle pot ;
And Jock his Sunday coat.
Their stockings white as snaw ;
He likes to see them braw.
Hae fed this month or mair;
That Colin weel may fare.
My bishop's satin gown;
That Colin's in the town.
My stockings pearly-blue-
For he's baith leal and true.
His breath's like caller air ; His very foot hae music in't,
As he comes up the stair.
And will I hear him speak ?
In troth I'm like to greet.3
1 little cap.
There's nae luck about the house,
There's nae luck at a';
When our gudeman's away.
75.-A WET SHEET AND A FLOWING SEA.
A wet sheet and a flowing sea,
A wind that follows fast,
And tends the gallant mast.
While, like the eagle free,
Old England on the lee.
I heard a fair one cry;
And white waves heaving high.
The good ship tight and free,
And merry men are we.
And lightning in yon cloud:
The wind is wakening loud.
The lightning flashes free;