AFTER RAIN. THE Cock is crowing, The green field sleeps in the sun; Are at work with the strongest; Their heads never raising; Like an army defeated The Snow hath retreated, On the top of the bare hill; The Plough-boy is whooping-anon--anon: There's life in the fountains; The rain is over and gone! W. Wordsworth. AGAIN rejoicing nature sees Her robe assume its vernal hues, In vain to me the cowslips blaw, In vain to me the violets spring; The mavis and the lintwhite sing. The merry ploughboy cheers his team, A dream of ane that never wauks. The wanton coot the water skims, The sheep-herd steeks his faulding slap, I meet him on the dewy hill. And when the lark, 'tween light and dark, Come, Winter, with thine angry howl, And maun I still on Menie doat, And bear the scorn that's in her e'e? For it's jet, jet black, and it's like a hawk, And it winna let a body be! R. Burns. THE PRIDE OF YOUTH. PROUD Maisie is in the wood, Sweet Robin sits on the bush Singing so rarely. "Tell me, thou bonny bird, When shall I marry me?" "Who makes the bridal bed, "The gray-headed sexton "The glowworm o'er grave and stone Sir W. Scott. 158 O WERE MY LOVE YON LILAC FAIR. O WERE MY LOVE YON LILAC FAIR. O WERE my love yon lilac fair When wearied on my little wing: How I wad mourn, when it was torn O gin my love were yon red rose Into her bonnie breast to fa'! Oh! there beyond expression blest, R. Burns. THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER. IT is the miller's daughter, And she's grown so dear, so dear, That I would be the jewel That trembles at her ear: For hid in ringlets day and night, I'd touch her neck so warm and white. And I would be the girdle About her dainty dainty waist, And her heart would beat against me And I should know if it beat right, And I would be the necklace, And all day long to fall and rise With her laughter or her sighs, A. Tennyson. |