THE

MAID OF NEIDPATH.

O LOVERS' eyes are sharp to see,
And lovers' ears in hearing;
And love, in life's extremity,

Can lend an hour of cheering.
Disease had been in Mary's bower,
And slow decay from mourning,
Though now she sits on Neidpath's tower,
To watch her love's returning.

All sunk and dim her eyes so bright,
Her form decayed by pining,
Till through her wasted hand, at night,
You saw the taper shining;

By fits, a sultry hectic hue

Across her cheek was flying;

By fits, so ashy pale she grew,

Her maidens thought her dying.

Yet keenest powers to see and hear,
Seemed in her frame residing;
Before the watch-dog pricked his ear,
She heard her lover's riding;

Ere scarce a distant form was kenned,
She knew and waved to greet him;
And o'er the battlement did bend,
As on the wing to meet him.

He came he passed-an heedless gaze,
As o'er some stranger glancing;
Her welcome, spoke in faltering phrase,
Lost in his courser's prancing-
The castle arch, whose hollow tone
Returns each whisper spoken,
Could scarcely catch the feeble moan,
Which told her heart was broken.

WANDERING WILLIE.

ALL joy was bereft me the day that you left me, And climbed the tall vessel to sail yon wide sea; O weary betide it! I wandered beside it,

And bann'd it for parting my Willie and me.

Far o'er the wave hast thou followed thy fortune,
Oft fought the squadrons of France and of Spain;
Ae kiss of welcome's worth twenty at parting,
Now I hae gotten my Willie again.

When the sky it was mirk, and the winds they were wailing,

I sat on the beach wi' the tear in my e'e,

And thought o' the bark where my Willie was sailing,

And wished that the tempest could a' blaw on me.

Now that thy gallant ship rides at her mooring,
Now that my wanderer's in safety at hame,
Music to me were the wildest winds' roaring,
That e'er o'er Inch Keith drove the dark ocean
faem.

When the lights they did blaze, and the guns they did rattle,

And blithe was each heart for the great victory, In secret I wept for the dangers of battle,

And thy glory itself was scarce comfort to me.

But now shalt thou tell, while I eagerly listen,
Of each bold adventure, and every brave scar;
And, trust me, I'll smile, though my een they may
glisten;

For sweet after danger's the tale of the war.

And oh, how we doubt when there's distance 'tween lovers,

When there's naething to speak to the heart thro'

the e'e;

How often the kindest, and warmest, prove rovers, And the love of the faithfullest ebbs like the sea.

Till, at times, could I help it? I pined and I ponder'd, If love could change notes like the bird on the tree

Now I'll ne'er ask if thine eyes may hae wander'd, Enough, thy leal heart has been constant to me.

Welcome, from sweeping o'er sea and through chan⚫ nel,

Hardships and danger despising for fame,

Furnishing story for glory's bright annal,

Welcome, my wanderer, to Jeanie and hame!

Enough, now thy story in annals of glory

Has humbled the pride of France, Holland and

Spain;

No more shalt thou grieve me, no more shalt thou

leave me,

I never will part with my Willie again.