SKIES.

WHEN stars are in the quiet skies,

Then most I pine for thee;

Bend on me then thy tender eyes,

As stars look on the sea!

For thoughts, like waves that glide by night,

Are stillest when they shine;
Mine earthly love lies hush'd in light
Beneath the heaven of thine.

There is an hour when angels keep

Familiar watch o'er men,

When coarser souls are wrapt in sleep--
Sweet spirit, meet me then!
There is an hour when holy dreams
Through slumber fairest glide;
And in that mystic hour it seems
Thou shouldst be by my side.

My thoughts of thee too sacred are
For daylight's common beam:
I-can but know thee as my star,
My angel and my dream;
When stars are in the quiet skies,
Then most I pine for thee;
Bend on me then thy tender eyes,
As stars look on the sea!

EDWARD BULWER LYTTON,

SHE'S GANE TO DWALL IN HEAVEN.

SHE'S gane to dwall in heaven, my lassie,
She gane to dwall in heaven;
Ye're owre pure, quo' the voice o' God,
For dwalling out o' heaven.

Fu' soon I'll follow thee;
Thou left me naught to covet ahin',

But took gudeness sel' wi' thee.

I look'd on thy death-cold face, my lassie,
I look'd on thy death-cold face;
Thou seem'd a lily new cut i' the bud,
An' fading in its place.

I look'd on thy death-shut eye, my lassie,
I look'd on thy death-shut eye;
An' a lovelier light in the brow of heaven
Fell Time shall ne'er destroy.

Thy lips were ruddy and calm, my lassie,
Thy lips were ruddy and calm ;
But gane was the holy breath o' heaven,
That sing the evening psalm.

There's naught but dust now mine, lassie,

There's naught but dust now mine; My soul's wi' thee i' the cauld grave, An' why should I stay behin'?

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

SONNET.

LET me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
Oh no! it is an ever-fixèd mark,

That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.