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A SEA CHILD
The lover of child Marjory Had one white hour of life brim full; Now the old nurse, the rocking sea, Hath him to lull.
The daughter of child Marjory Hath in her veins, to beat and run, The glad indomitable sea, The strong white sun.
Bliss Carmen [1861-1929]
FROM THE HARBOR HILL
"Is it a sail?" she asked.
"No," I said.
"Only a white sea-gull with its pinions spread."
"Is it a spar?" she asked.
"No," said I.
"Only the slender light-house tower against the sky."
"Flutters a pennant there?"
"No," I said.
"Only a shred of cloud in the sunset red."
"Surely a hull, a hull!"
"Where?" I cried.
"Only a rock half-bared by the ebbing tide."
"Wait you a s.h.i.+p?" I asked.
"Aye!" quoth she.
"The Harbor Belle; her mate comes home to marry me.
"Surely the good s.h.i.+p hath Met no harm?"
Was it the west wind wailed or the babe on her arm?
"The Harbor Belle!" she urged.
Naught said I.-- For I knew o'er the grave o' the Harbor Belle the sea-gulls fly.
Gustav Kobbe [1857-1918]
ALLAN WATER
On the banks of Allan Water, When the sweet spring-time did fall, Was the miller's lovely daughter, Fairest of them all.
For his bride a soldier sought her, And a winning tongue had he, On the banks of Allan Water, None so gay as she.
On the banks of Allan Water, When brown autumn spread his store, There I saw the miller's daughter, But she smiled no more.
For the summer grief had brought her, And the soldier false was he, On the banks of Allan Water, None so sad as she.
On the banks of Allan Water, When the winter snow fell fast, Still was seen the miller's daughter, Chilling blew the blast.
But the miller's lovely daughter, Both from cold and care was free; On the banks of Allan Water, There a corse lay she.
Matthew Gregory Lewis [1775-1818]
FORSAKEN
O waly waly up the bank, And waly waly down the brae, And waly waly yon burn-side Where I and my Love wont to gae!
I leaned my back unto an aik, I thought it was a trusty tree; But first it bowed, and syne it brak, Sae my true Love did lichtly me.
O waly waly, but love be bonny A little while when it is new; But when 'tis auld, it waxeth cauld And fades awa' like morning dew.
O wherefore should I busk my head?
Or wherefore should I kame my hair?
For my true Love has me forsook, And says he'll never loe me mair.
Now Arthur-seat sall be my bed; The sheets shall ne'er be pressed by me: Saint Anton's well sall be my drink, Since my true Love has forsaken me.
Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw And shake the green leaves aff the tree?
O gentle Death, when wilt thou come?
For of my life I am wearie.
'Tis not the frost, that freezes fell, Nor blawing snaw's inclemencie; 'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry, But my Love's heart grown cauld to me.
When we cam in by Glasgow town We were a comely sight to see; My Love was clad in black velvet.
And I mysel in cramasie.
But had I wist, before I kissed, That love had been sae ill to win; I had locked my heart in a case of gowd And pinned it with a siller pin.
And, O! if my young babe were born, And sat upon the nurse's knee, And I mysel were dead and gane, And the green gra.s.s growing over me!
Unknown
BONNIE DOON
Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fair!
How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae fu' o' care!
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird That sings upon the bough; Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause Luve was true.
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird That sings beside thy mate; For sae I sat, and sae I sang, And wist na o' my fate.
Aft hae I roved by bonnie Doon To see the woodbine twine, And ilka bird sang o' its love; And sae did I o' mine.
