O Venus' myrtles, fresh and green!
O Cupid's blushing roses!
Not on your classic flowers alone
The sacred light reposes.

Though gentler care may shield your buds,
From north winds rude and blasting,
As dear to Love, those few, pale flowers,
Oh, white life-everlasting!

ANNIE D. GREEN.

Spinning-Wheel Song.

MELLOW the moonlight to shine is beginning;

Close by the window young Eileen is spinning;
Bent o'er the fire, her blind grandmother, sitting,
Is croaning, and moaning, and drowsily knitting, —

66

Eileen, achora, I hear some one tapping."

"T is the ivy, dear mother, against the glass flapping."

"Eileen, I surely hear somebody sighing."

"'Tis the sound, mother dear, of the summer wind dying.”

Merrily, cheerily, noisily whirring,

Swings the wheel, spins the reel, while the foot's stirring; Sprightly, and lightly, and airily ringing,

Thrills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing.

"What's that noise that I hear at the window, I wonder?" "'T is the little birds chirping the holly-bush under." "What makes you be shoving and moving your stool on, And singing all wrong that old song of The Coolun!'' There's a form at the casement- the form of her true-loveAnd he whispers, with face bent, "I'm waiting for you, love; Get up on the stool, through the lattice step lightly,

We'll rove in the grove while the moon's shining brightly."

WHEN THE KYE COMES HAME. 33

Merrily, cheerily, noisily whirring;

Swings the wheel, spins the reel, while the foot 's stirring; Sprightly, and lightly, and airily ringing,

Thrills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing.

The maid shakes her head, on her lip lays her fingers,
Steals up from her seat-longs to go, and yet lingers;
A frightened glance turns to her drowsy grandmother,
Puts one foot on the stool, spins the wheel with the other.
Lazily, easily, swings now the wheel round;

Slowly and lowly is heard now the reel's sound;
Noiseless and light to the lattice above her

The maid steps,

then leaps to the arms of her lover. Slower, and slower, and slower the wheel swings;

Lower, and lower, and lower the reel rings.

Ere the reel and the wheel stopped their ringing and rubbing, Thro' the grove the young lovers by moonlight are roving. JOHN FRANCIS WALLER.

When the Kye comes Hame.

'OME, all ye jolly shepherds,

COME,

That whistle through the glen,

I'll tell ye of a secret

That courtiers dinna ken:

What is the greatest bliss

That the tongue of man can name?

'Tis to woo a bonny lassie

When the kye comes hame.

'T is not beneath a coronet,
Nor canopy of state,
'Tis not on couch of velvet,

Nor arbor of the great, —

3

'Tis beneath the spreadin' birk, In the glen without the name, Wi' a bonny, bonny lassie

When the kye comes hame.

There the blackbird bigs his nest
For the mate he lo'es to see,
And on the topmost bough,

Oh, a happy bird is he;
Where he pours his melting ditty,
And love is a' the theme,
And he'll woo his bonny lassie
When the kye comes hame.

When the blewart bears a pearl,
And the daisy turns a pea,
And the bonny lucken gowan

Has fauldit up her e'e,

Then the laverock frae the blue lift

Droops down, an' thinks nae shame

To woo his bonny lassie

When the kye comes hame.

See yonder pawkie shepherd,

That lingers on the hill,

His ewes are in the fauld,

An' his lambs are lying still;

Yet he downa gang to bed,

For his heart is in a flame,

To meet his bonny lassie

When the kye comes hame.

When the little wee bit heart
Rises high in the breast,
An' the little wee bit starn
Rises red in the east,

Oh, there's a joy sae dear

That the heart can hardly frame,

Wi' a bonny, bonny lassie,

When the kye comes hame!

BEFORE THE GATE.

Then since all Nature joins

In this love without alloy,
Oh, wha would prove a traitor
To Nature's dearest joy?
Or wha would choose a crown,
Wi' its perils and its fame,
And miss his bonny lassie

When the kye comes hame ?

JAMES HOGG.

35

Before the Gate.

THEY gave the whole long day to idle laughter,

THEY

To fitful song and jest,

To moods of soberness as idle, after,

And silences, as idle too as the rest.

But when at last upon their way returning,
Taciturn, late and loath,

Through the broad meadow in the sunset burning,
They reached the gate, one fine spell hindered both.

Her heart was troubled with a subtile anguish

Such as but women know

That wait, and lest love speak or speak not, languish, And what they would, would rather they would not so;

Till he said,

man-like nothing comprehending

Of all the wondrous guile

That women won win themselves with, and bending

Eyes of relentless asking on her the while, —

"Ah, if beyond this gate the path united

Our steps as far as death,

And I might open it!—”

His voice, affrighted

At his own daring, faltered under his breath.

Then she-whom both his faith and fear enchanted

Far beyond words to tell,

Feeling her woman's finest wit had wanted

The art he had that knew to blunder so well

Slyly drew near, a little step, and mocking,

"Shall we not be too late

For tea?" she said. "I'm quite worn out with walking:

Yes, thanks, your arm.

And will you open the gate ?"

WILLIAM D. HOWELLS.

M

Plighted.

INE to the core of the heart, my beauty!
Mine, all mine, and for love, not duty :

Love given willingly, full and free,
Love for love's sake - as mine to thee.

Duty's a slave that keeps the keys,
But Love, the master, goes in and out
Of his goodly chambers with song and shout,
Just as he please — just as he please.

Mine, from the dear head's crown, brown-golden,
To the silken foot that's scarce beholden;

Give a few friends hand or smile,

Like a generous lady, now and awhile,

But the sanctuary heart, that none dare win,

Keep holiest of holiest evermore;

The crowd in the aisles may watch the door,
The high-priest only enters in.

Mine, my own, without doubts or terrors,
With all thy goodnesses, all thy errors,
Unto me and to me alone revealed,
"A spring shut up, a fountain sealed."