They sought her baith by bower and ha';

The ladie was not seen!

She's o'er the Border, and awa'

Wi' Jock of Hazeldean.

CLXXXIII

SIR W. SCOTT

FREEDOM AND LOVE

WOW delicious is the winning

How

Of a kiss at love's beginning, When two mutual hearts are sighing For the knot there's no untying!

Yet remember, 'midst your wooing
Love has bliss, but Love has ruing;
Other smiles may make you
you fickle,
Tears for other charms may trickle.

Love he comes and Love he tarries
Just as fate or fancy carries;
Longest stays, when sorest chidden;
Laughs and flies, when press'd and bidden.

Bind the sea to slumber stilly,

Bind its odour to the lily,

Bind the aspen ne'er to quiver,

Then bind Love to last for ever.

Love's a fire that needs renewal

Of fresh beauty for its fuel:

Love's wing moults when caged and captured, Only free, he soars enraptured.

Can you keep the bee from ranging,
Or the ringdove's neck from changing?
No! nor fetter'd Love from dying
In the knot there's no untying.

J. CAMPBELL

CLXXXIV

LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY

HE fountains mingle with the river

THE

And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single,

All things by a law divine.
In one another's being mingle
Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdain'd its brother:

And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?

When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes,

And far away o'er lawns and lakes

Goes answering light!

Yet Love hath echoes truer far

And far more sweet

Than e'er, beneath the moonlight's star,

Of horn or lute or soft guitar

The songs repeat.

"T is when the sigh,

And only then,

-in youth sincere

The sigh that's breathed for one to hear

Is by that one, that only Dear

Breathed back again.

CLXXXVI

T. MOORE

A

A SERENADE

H! County Guy, the hour is nigh,
The sun has left the lea,

The orange-flower perfumes the bower,
The breeze is on the sea.

The lark, his lay who trill'd all day,
Sits hush'd his partner nigh;

Breeze, bird, and flower confess the hour,
But where is County Guy?

The village maid steals through the shade
Her shepherd's suit to hear;

To Beauty shy, by lattice high,
Sings high-born Cavalier.

The star of Love, all stars above,

Now reigns o'er earth and sky,

And high and low the influence know—
But where is County Guy?

SIR W. SCOTT

CLXXXVII

TO THE EVENING STAR

G

EM of the crimson-colour'd Even,
Companion of retiring day,
Why at the closing gates of heaven,
Beloved Star, dost thou delay?

So fair thy pensile beauty burns
When soft the tear of twilight flows;
So due thy plighted love returns
To chambers brighter than the rose;

To Peace, to Pleasure, and to Love
So kind a star thou seem'st to be,
Sure some enamour'd orb above
Descends and burns to meet with thee!

Thine is the breathing, blushing hour
When all unheavenly passions fly,
Chased by the soul-subduing power
Of Love's delicious witchery.

O! sacred to the fall of day
Queen of propitious stars, appear,
And early rise, and long delay,
When Caroline herself is here!

Shine on her chosen green resort
Whose trees the sunward summit crown,
And wanton flowers, that well may court
An angel's feet to tread them down:-

Shine on her sweetly scented road
Thou star of evening's purple dome,
That lead'st the nightingale abroad,
And guid'st the pilgrim to his home.

Shine where my charmer's sweeter breath Embalms the soft exhaling dew,

Where dying winds a sigh bequeath

To kiss the cheek of rosy hue:

Where, winnow'd by the gentle air
Her silken tresses darkly flow

And fall upon her brow so fair,
Like shadows on the mountain snow.

Thus, ever thus, at day's decline

In converse sweet to wander far

O bring with thee my Caroline,

And thou shalt be my Ruling Star!

T. CAMPBELL

CLXXXVIII

TO THE NIGHT

WIFTLY walk over the western wave,

SWIFTLY

Spirit of Night!

Out of the misty eastern cave

Where, all the long and lone daylight,

Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear
Which make thee terrible and dear,
Swift be thy flight!

Wrap thy form in a mantle gray
Star-inwrought!

Blind with thine hair the eyes of day,

Kiss her until she be wearied out:

Then wander o'er city and sea and land,

Touching all with thine opiate wand—

Come, long-sought!