Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk, Nor palfrey fresh and fair; And you, the foremost o' them a', Shall ride our forest queen But aye she loot the tears down fa' IV The kirk was decked at morning-tide, The priest and bridegroom wait the bride, She 's o'er the border, and awa' Wi' Jock of Hazeldean. Sir Walter Scott. CANADIAN BOAT-SONG FAINTLY as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune, and our oars keep time. Why should we yet our sails unfurl? Utawa's tide! this trembling moon Thomas Moore. ROSE AYLMER AH! what avails the sceptred race, Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes A night of memories and sighs I consecrate to thee. Walter Savage Landor. ROSABELLE OH, listen, listen, ladies gay! "Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew, "The blackening wave is edged with white; "Last night the gifted Seer did view A wet shroud swathed round lady gay; Then stay thee, Fair, in Ravensheuch; Why cross the gloomy firth to-day? ""Tis not because Lord Lindesay's heir ""T is not because the ring they ride, And Lindesay at the ring rides well, O'er Roslin all that weary night A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam; 'T was broader than the watch-fire's light, And redder than the bright moonbeam. It glared on Roslin's castled rock, It ruddied all the copse-wood glen; 'T was seen from Dryden's groves of oak, And seen from caverned Hawthornden. Seemed all on fire that chapel proud, Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffined lie, Each Baron, for a sable shroud, Seemed all on fire within, around, And glimmered all the dead men's mail. Blazed battlement and pinnet high, There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle ! And each Saint Clair was buried there Sir Walter Scott. RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER1 PART I Ir is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 56 By thy long gray beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me ? 1 Note 11. "The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin ; The guests are met, the feast is set: He holds him with his skinny hand, "There was a ship," quoth he. "Hold off! unhand me, gray-beard loon!" Eftsoons his hand dropt he. He holds him with his glittering eye :— The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone: He cannot choose but hear; And thus spake on that ancient man, "The ship was cheered, the harbor cleared; Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, Below the light-house top. "The sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. "Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon |