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When forth I go upon my way, a thousand toys are mine,

The clusters of dark violets, the wreaths of the wild

vine ;

My jewels are the primrose pale, the bind-weed, and the rose;

And show me any courtly gem more beautiful than those.

And then the fruit! the glowing fruit, how sweet the scent it breathes !

I love to see its crimson cheek rest on the bright green leaves !

Summer's own gift of luxury, in which the poor may share,

The wild-wood fruit my eager eye is seeking everywhere.

Oh! summer is a pleasant time, with all its sounds and sights;

Its dewy mornings, balmy eves, and tranquil calm delights;

I sigh when first I see the leaves fall yellow on the plain,

And all the winter long I sing-Sweet summer, come again.

LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER.-Campbell.

A chieftain, to the Highlands bound,
Cries, "Boatman, do not tarry!
And I'll give thee a silver pound,

To row us o'er the ferry."

"Now, who be ye would cross Loch-Gyle,

This dark and stormy water?"

"Oh! I'm the chief of Ulva's Isle,

And this Lord Ullin's daughter.

"And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen,

My blood would stain the heather.

"His horsemen hard behind us ride;
Should they our steps discover,
Then who would cheer my bonny bride,
When they have slain her lover ?"

Out spoke 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 ;
So, though the waves are raging white,
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 armèd men,
Their trampling sounded nearer.

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"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-

When, oh! too strong for human hand,
The tempest gathered o'er her.

And still they rowed, amidst the roar
Of waters fast prevailing :

Lord Ullin reached that fatal shore-
His wrath was changed to wailing.

For sore dismayed, through storm and shade,
His child he did discover!

One lovely arm was stretched for aid,

And one was round her lover.

"Come back! come back!" he cried in grief, "Across this stormy water;

And I'll forgive your Highland chief

My daughter!-oh! my daughter!"

'Twas vain!—the loud waves lashed the shore,
Return or aid preventing :-

The waters wild went o'er his child-
And he was left lamenting.

THE THREE FISHERS.-Kingsley.

THREE fishers went sailing away to the West,
Away to the West as the sun went down ;
Each thought on the woman who loved him the best,
And the children stood watching them out of the town;
For men must work, and women must weep,
And there's little to earn, and many to keep,
Though the harbour bar be moaning.

Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower,

And they trimmed the lamps as the sun went down ; They looked at the squall, and they looked at the shower,

And the night-rack came rolling up ragged and brown. But men must work, and women must weep, Though storms be sudden, and waters deep, And the harbour bar be moaning.

Three corpses lay out on the shining sands

In the morning gleam as the tide went down, And the women are weeping and wringing their hands For those who will never come home to the town; For men must work, and women must weep, And the sooner 'tis over, the sooner to sleep, And good-bye to the bar and its moaning.

RULE, BRITANNIA.-Thomson.

WHEN Britain first, at Heaven's command,
Arose from out the azure main,

This was the charter of the land,

And guardian angels sung the strain:
Rule, Britannia, Britannia rules the waves!
Britons never shall be slaves.

The nations not so blest as thee
Must in their turn to tyrants fall,
Whilst thou shalt flourish, great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.

Still more majestic shalt thou rise,

More dreadful from each foreign stroke;
As the loud blast that tears the skies,
Serves but to root thy native oak.

Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame;
All their attempts to bend thee down
Will but arouse thy generous flame,

And work their woe and thy renown.

To thee belongs the rural reign;

Thy cities shall with commerce shine;
All shall be subject to the main,
And every shore it circles thine.

The muses, still with freedom found,
Shall to thy happy coast repair;

Blest isle, with matchless beauty crowned,
And manly hearts to guard the fair.
Rule, Britannia, Britannia rules the waves!
Britons never shall be slaves.

COMMONWEALTH OF BEES.-Shakspeare.

So work the honey bees;

Creatures, that by a rule in nature, teach
The art of order to a peopled Kingdom.
They have a King, and officers of sorts;
Where some, like magistrates, correct at home;
Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad;
Others, like soldiers, armèd in their stings,
Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds,
Which pillage, they with merry march bring home
To the tent royal of their emperor,
Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
The singing mason building roofs of gold;
The civil citizens kneading up the honey;
The poor mechanic porters crowding in
Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate;
The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,
Delivering o'er to executors pale
The lazy, yawning drone.

PEACE.-Herbert.

SWEET Peace, where dost thou dwell? I humbly crave

Let me once know.

I sought thee in a secret cave,

And asked if Peace were there.

A hollow wind did seem to answer, “No ;

Go seek elsewhere."

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