Of tourneys and great challenges of knights,
And all those triumphs for thy beauty's sake.
When thou hast told those honours done to thee,
Then tell, O tell! how thou didst murder me.
T. CAMPION

80.-BALLADE OF SLEEP

THE hours are passing slow,
I hear their weary tread
Clang from the tower, and go
Back to their kinsfolk dead.
Sleep! death's twin brother dread!
Why dost thou scorn me so?
The wind's voice overhead

Long wakeful here I know,

And music from the steep,

Where waters fall and flow.

Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep?

All sounds that might bestow
Rest on the fevered bed,
All slumbrous sounds and low
Are mingled here and wed,
And bring no drowsihead.
Shy dreams flit to and fro

With shadowy hair dispread;

With wistful eyes that glow,

And silent robes that sweep.

Thou wilt not hear me; no?

Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep?

What cause hast thou to show
Of sacrifice unsped?

Of all thy slaves below

I most have labourèd

With service sung and said;
Have culled such buds as blow,

Soft poppies white and red,
Where thy still gardens grow
And Lethe's waters weep.
Why, then, art thou my foe?
Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep?

ENVOI

Prince, ere the dark be sped
By golden shafts, ere low
And long the shadows creep :
Lord of the wand of lead,

Soft-footed as the snow,

Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep?

A. LANG

81. THE PRAISE OF LETTERS

(FROM "MUSOPHILUS")

O BLESSED Letters, that combine in one
All ages past, and make One live with All!
By you we do confer with who are gone,
And the dead-living unto council call;
By you the unborn shall have communion
Of what we feel, and what shall us befal.

Soul of the world, Knowledge! without thee
What hath the world that truly glorious is?
Why should our pride make such a stir to be,
To be forgot? what good is like to this,
To do worthy the writing, and to write
Worthy the reading, and the world's delight?

Power above powers, O heavenly Eloquence !
That with the strong rein of commanding words
Dost manage, guide, and master th' eminence
Of men's affections, more than all their swords :
Shall we not offer to thy excellence

The richest treasure that our wit affords ?

And as for Poesy, mother of this force,

That breeds, brings forth, and nourishes this might.
Teaching it in a loose, yet measured course,
With comely motions how to go upright,
And, fostering it with bountiful discourse,
Adorns it thus in fashions of delight ;-

What should I say? Since it is well approved
The speech of Heaven, with whom they have com-
mérce

That only seem out of themselves removed,
And do with more than human skills converse;
Those numbers wherewith Heaven and Earth are
moved

Show, weakness speaks in prose, and power in

verse.

S. DANIEL

82.-AULD ROBIN GRAY

WHEN the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame,

And a' the warld to rest are gane,

The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e, While my gudeman lies sound by me.

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride;

But saving a croun he had naething else beside : To make the croun a pund, young Jamie gaed to

sea;

And the croun and the pund were baith for me.

He hadna been awa' a week but only twa

When my father brak his arm, and the cow was

stawn awa;

My mother she fell sick, and my Jamie at the sea— And auld Robin Gray came a-courtin' me.

My father couldna work, and my mother couldna spin ;

I toiled day and night, but their bread I couldna

win;

Auld Rob maintained them baith, and wi' tears in

his e'e

Said, "Jennie, for their sakes, O marry me !"

My heart it said nay; I looked for Jamie back; But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a

wrack;

His ship it was a wrack-why didna Jamie dee ? Or why do I live to cry, "Wae's me!"?

My father urgit sair: my mother didna speak ; But she looked in my face till my heart was like to break:

They gi'ed him my hand, but my heart was at the sea;

Sae auld Robin Gray he was gudeman to me.

I hadna been a wife a week but only four,
When mournfu' as I sat on the stane at the door,
I saw my Jamie's wraith, for I couldna think it he-
Till he said, “I'm come hame to marry thee."

O sair, sair did we greet, and muckle did we say; We took but ae kiss, and I bade him gang away : I wish that I were dead, but I'm no like to dee; And why was I born to say-"Wae's me!"

I

gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin;

I daurna think on Jamie, for that wad be a sin;
But I'll do my best a gude wife aye to be,
For auld Robin Gray he is kind unto me.
A. LINDSAY 1

83. THE LAND OF DROWSIHEAD
(FROM "THE CASTLE OF INDOLENCE")

IN lowly dale, fast by a river's side,
With woody hill o'er hill encompassed round,
A most enchanting wizard did abide,

Than whom a fiend more fell is nowhere found.
It was, I ween, a lovely spot of ground;

1 Afterwards Lady Anne Barnard.