To watch it withering, leaf by leaf, To see thy beauties fade ; The night that follow'd such a morn As stars that shoot along the sky To gaze, how fondly! on thy face, Uphold thy drooping head; And more thy buried love endears 203 LORD BYRON. 133 One word is too often profaned One feeling too falsely disdain'd на One hope is too like despair Than that from another. 5 I can give not what men call love ; 10 The worship the heart lifts above 204 P. B. SHELLEY. GATHERING SONG OF DONALD THE BLACK Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, Wake thy wild voice anew, Summon Clan Conuil. Come from deep glen, and True heart that wears one, Strong hand that bears one. 1 15 5 10 15 20 Leave the deer, leave the steer, Come as the winds come, when 25 Come as the waves come, when Faster come, faster come, Faster and faster, Chief, vassal, page and groom, Fast they come, fast they come ; Wide waves the eagle plume, Blended with heather. Cast your plaids, draw your blades, Pibroch of Donuil Dhu Knell for the onset ! 40 SIR W. SCOTT. 205 A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast And fills the white and rustling sail And bends the gallant mast, my boys, 5 Away the good ship flies, and leaves O for a soft and gentle wind! But give to me the snoring breeze And white waves heaving high; 10 And white waves heaving high, my lads, There's tempest in yon hornéd moon, The wind is piping loud, my boys, While the hollow oak our palace is, 206 Ye Mariners of England A. CUNNINGHAM. That guard our native seas, Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, The battle and the breeze, Your glorious standard launch again And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow; While the battle rages loud and long 15 20 5 10 The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave For the deck it was their field of fame, Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell 15 As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow; While the battle rages loud and long And the stormy winds do blow. Britannia needs no bulwarks, 20 Her march is o'er the mountain waves, With thunders from her native oak As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, Till danger's troubled night depart To the fame of your name, When the storm has ceased to blow; When the fiery fight is heard no more, 25 30 35 40 T. CAMPBELL. 207 BATTLE OF THE BALTIC Of Nelson and the North Sing the glorious day's renown, All the might of Denmark's crown, And her arms along the deep proudly shone ; Led them on. Like leviathans afloat Lay their bulwarks on the brine; On the lofty British line : It was ten of April morn by the chime : |