And when, in other climes, we meet To live and die in scenes like this, As travellers oft look back at eve Still faint behind them glowing, THOMAS MOORE. ADIEU, ADIEU! MY NATIVE SHORE. ADIEU, adieu! my native shore The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar, My native Land - Good Night! A few short hours, and he will rise Its hearth is desolate ; Wild weeds are gathering on the wall; MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME. NEGRO SONG. BYRON. THE sun shines bright in our old Kentucky home; 'Tis summer, the darkeys are gay; The corn top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom, While the birds make music all the day; The young folks roll on the little cabin floor, All merry, all happy, all bright; By 'm by hard times comes a knockin' at the door,Then, my old Kentucky home, good night! CHORUS. Weep no more, my lady; O, weep no more today! We'll sing one song for the old Kentucky home, For our old Kentucky home far away. But, with her heart, if not her ear, For all is well!" JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. TO LUCASTA. IF to be absent were to be Or that, when I am gone, You or I were alone; Then, my Lucasta, might I crave LOVE'S MEMORY. FROM "ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL," ACT I. SC. I. I AM undone there is no living, none, Pity from blustering wind or swallowing wave. In our heart's table, - heart too capable But I'll not sigh one blast or gale To swell my sail, Or pay a tear to 'suage The foaming blue-god's rage; Though seas and lands be 'twixt us both, Like separated souls, All time and space controls: Above the highest sphere we meet, Unseen, unknown; and greet as angels greet. So, then, we do anticipate Our after-fate, And are alive i' th' skies, If thus our lips and eyes - their earthly bodies left behind. COLONEL RICHARD LOVELACE. I LOVE MY JEAN. OF a' the airts the wind can blaw, For there the bonnie lassie lives, The lassie I lo'e best. There wild woods grow, and rivers row, And monie a hill's between ; I see her in the dewy flowers, I hear her in the tunefu' birds, I hear her charm the air; There's not a bonnie flower that springs By fountain, shaw, or green; There's not a bonnie bird that sings, ROBERT BURNS. The points of the compass. Of every line and trick of his sweet favor: SHAKESPEARE. O, SAW YE BONNIE LESLEY? O, SAW ye bonnie Lesley As she gaed o'er the border? She's gane, like Alexander, To spread her conquests farther. To see her is to love her, And love but her forever; Thou art a queen, fair Lesley, The hearts o' men adore thee. The deil he could na scaith thee, Or aught that wad belang thee ; And say, "I canna wrang thee!" Misfortune sha' na steer thee; Thou 'rt like themselves sae lovely That ill they'll ne'er let near thee. Return again, fair Lesley, Return to Caledonie ! ROBERT BURNS. JEANIE MORRISON. I'VE wandered east, I've wandered west, But never, never can forget • Harm. |