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Mark our ways, how noiseless
All, and sweetly voiceless,
Where our small seed dwells,
We thread the earth in silence,
In silence build our bowers, And leaf by leaf in silence show, till we laugh a-top,
O, HEARD ye yon pibroch sound sad in the gale,
Glenara came first, with the mourners and shroud ; Her kinsmen they followed, but mourned not aloud; Their plaids all their bosoms were folded around ; They marched all in silence, — they looked on the
In silence they reached, over mountain and moor,
" And tell me, I charge ye, ye clan of my spouse,
“ I dreamt of my lady, I dreamt of her shroud," Cried a voice from the kinsmen, all wrathful and loud ; “ And empty that shroud and that coffin did seem; Glenara ! Glenara ! now read me my dream !”
O, pale grew the cheek of that chieftain, I ween, When the shroud was unclosed and no lady was seen; When a voice from the kinsmen spoke louder in
scorn, 'T was the youth who had loved the fair Ellen of
“I dreamt of my lady, I dreamt of her grief,
In dust low the traitor has knelt to the ground,
TO THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET.
Green little vaulter in the sunny grass,
LORD ULLBN'S DAUGHTER.
O sweet and tiny cousins, that belong,
LORD ULLEN'S DAUGHTER. — Campbell.
A CHIEFTAIN to the Highlands bound
Cries, “ Boatman, do not tarry,
To row us o'er the ferry.”
“ Now who be ye would cross Lochgyle,
This dark and stormy water?
And this Lord Ullen's daughter.
66 And fast before her father's men,
Three days we've fled together;
My blood would stain the heather.
“ His horsemen fast behind us ride,
Should they our steps discover,
When they have slain her lover?”
Outspoke the hardy Highland wight,
" I'll go, my chief, - I'm ready, – It is not for your silver bright,
But for your winsome lady!
“ And, by my word, the bonny bird
In danger shall not tarry ;
I'll row you o'er the ferry.”
By this the storm grew loud apace,
The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face
Grew dark as they were speaking.
But still, as wilder blew the wind,
And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men,
Their trampling sounded nearer.
“ O, haste thee, haste,” the lady cries,
“Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies;
But not an angry father.”
The boat has left a stormy land,
A stormy sea before her,
The tempest gathered o'er her!
And still they rowed, amidst the roar
Of waters fast prevailing;
His wrath was changed to wailing.
For, sore dismayed, through storm and shade,
His child he did discover ;
And one was round her lover.
TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN.
• “Come back! come back !” he cried in grief,
“ Across this stormy water ;
My daughter! O my daughter!”
’T was vain ; the loud waves lashed the shore,
Return or aid preventing ;
And he was left lamenting.
TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN. - Bryant.
Thou blossom bright with autumn dew,
Thou comest not when violets lean
Thou waitest late, and com’st alone,
Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye
as if that sky let fall A flower from its cerulean wall.