For could I view nor them nor thee, Partakers of thy sad decline, My Mary! Thy hands their little force resign; My Mary! Such feebleness of limb thou prov'st, My Mary! My Mary! But ah! by constant heed I know, And should my future lot be cast My Mary! With much resemblance to the past, Thy worn-out heart will break at last, My Mary! ANNE LETITIA BARBAULD. Born, 1743; Died, 1825. LIFE! I know not what thou art, Life! we've been long together, Through pleasant and through cloudy weather: 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear, Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear ; -Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time: Say not Good night; but in some other clime, JAMES BEATTIE. Born, 1735; Died, 1803. HOPE BEYOND THE GRAVE. "Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more; Nor yet for the ravage of Winter I mourn; 'Twas thus, by the glare of false Science betray'd, That leads, to bewilder; that dazzles, to blind; My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shade, Destruction before me, and sorrow behind. O, pity, great Father of light, then I cried, Thy creature, who fain would not wander from Thee: Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride; From doubt and from darkness Thou only canst free. And darkness and doubt are now flying away, So breaks on the traveller, faint and astray, On the cold cheek of Death smiles and roses are blending, And Beauty immortal awakes from the tomb. LADY ANNE BARNARD (LINDSAY). Born, 1750; Died, 1825. AULD ROBIN GRAY. WHEN the sheep are in the fauld, when the cows come hame, When a' the weary world to rest are gane, The woes of my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e, While my gudeman lies sound by me. Young Jamie loved me well, and sought me for his bride, But saving a crown, he had naething else beside; To make the crown a pund, my Jamie went to sea, And the crown and the pund were baith for me. He hadna been gane but a twelvemonth and a day, When my father brak his arm, our cow was stown away; My mither she fell sick; my Jamie was at sea; My father couldna work, my mother couldna spin; win: Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and, wi' tears in his e'e, Said, "Jenny, for their sakes, O marry me!" My heart it said Nay; I look'd for Jamie back; But hard blew the winds, and his ship was a wrack; My father urged me sair; my mother didna speak, break; They gied him my hand, but my heart was at the sea; Sae auld Robin Gray, he was gudeman to me. I hadna been his wife but weeks only four, Sair, sair did we greet, and mickle did we say; I wish that I were dead; but I'm no like to dee. O, why was I born to cry, Wae's me! I gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin; I darena think o' Jamie, for that wad be a sin; GEORGE CRABBE. AN ENGLISH PEASANT. And, with the firmest, had the fondest mind: |