In the vast forest here,

Clad in my warlike gear,
Fell I upon my spear,

Oh, death was grateful!

"Thus, seamed with many scars,
Bursting these prison bars,
Up to its native stars

My soul ascended!

There from the flowing bowl
Deep drinks the warrior's soul,

Skoal! to the Northland! Skoal!

Thus the tale ended.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

THE FAREWELL

It was a' for our rightfu' King
We left fair Scotland's strand;
It was a' for our rightfu' King
We e'er saw Irish land,
My dear;

We e'er saw Irish land.

Now a' is done that men can do,

And a' is done in vain ;

My love and native land farewell,

For I maun cross the main,

My dear;

For I maun cross the main.

He turned him right and round about
Upon the Irish shore;

And gae

his bridle-reins a shake,

With adieu for evermore,

My dear;

With adieu for evermore.

The sodger from the wars returns,
The sailor frae the main;

But I hae parted frae my

Never to meet again,

love,

My dear;

Never to meet again.

When day is gane, and night is come,
And a' folk bound to sleep;

I think on him that's far awa',
The lee-lang night, and weep,
My dear;

The lee-lang night, and weep.

Unknown.

ADAM O' GORDON

It fell about the Martinmas,

When the wind blew shrill and cold, Said Adam o' Gordon to his men,

"We maun draw to a hold.

"And whatna hold shall we draw to, My merry men and me?

We will go to the house of Rodes,
To see that fair ladye."

The lady stood on her castle wall;
Beheld both dale and down;

There she was aware of a host of men
Came riding towards the town.

"Oh, see ye not, my merry men all,
Oh, see ye not what I see?
Methinks I see a host of men:
I marvel who they be."

She had no sooner buskit herself,
And putten on her gown,

Till Adam o' Gordon and his men
Were round about the town.

The lady ran to her tower-head,
As fast as she could hie,
To see if by her fair speeches
She could with him agree.

"Give o'er your house, ye lady fair,
Give o'er your house to me!
Or I shall burn yourself therein,
But and your babies three."

"I winna give o'er, ye false Gordon,

To no sic traitor as thee;

And if ye burn my

ain dear babes,

My lord shall mak'

ye

dree.

"Woe worth, woe worth ye, Jock, my man!

I paid ye well your

fee;

Why pull ye out the grund-wa' stone,

Lets in the reek to me?

"And e'en woe worth ye, Jock, my

I paid ye well your hire;

man!

Why pull ye out the grund-wa' stone,

To me lets in the fire?"

"Ye paid me well my hire, ladye,

Ye paid me well my

fee;

But now I'm Adam o' Gordon's man,

Must either do or dee."

Oh, then bespake her little son,

Sat on the nurse's knee;

Says, "O mither dear, give o'er this house! For the reek it smothers me."

"I winna give up my house, my dear,
To no sic traitor as he:

Come weal, come woe, my jewel fair,
Ye maun take share with me."

Oh, then bespake her daughter dear,—
She was both jimp and small:

“Oh, row me in a pair of sheets,

And tow me o'er the wall!"

They rowed her in a pair of sheets,
And towed her o'er the wall;

But on the point of Gordon's spear
She gat a deadly fall.

Oh, bonnie, bonnie was her mouth,

And cherry were her cheeks,
And clear, clear was her yellow hair,
Whereon the red blood dreeps!

Then with his spear he turned her o'er;
Oh, gin her face was wan!

He said, "Ye are the first that e'er
I wished alive again.

❝Busk and boun, my merry men all,
For ill dooms I do guess;

I cannot look on that bonnie face
As it lies on the grass."

But when the ladye saw the fire
Come flaming o'er her head,

She wept, and kissed her children twain.
Says, "Bairns, we be but dead.”

Oh, this way looked her own dear lord,
As he came o'er the lea;

He saw his castle all in a lowe,
So far as he could see.

"Put on, put on, my mighty men,
As fast as ye can dri'e!

For he that's hindmost of the thrang
Shall ne'er get good of me!"