A Bundle of Ballads Part 27

The boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but he had fled; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead.

Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm-- A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though child-like form.

The flames rolled on--he would not go Without his father's word; That father, faint in death below, His voice no longer heard.

He called aloud, "Say, father! say If yet my task is done!"

He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son.

"Speak, father!" once again he cried, "If I may yet be gone!"

And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.

Upon his brow he felt their breath, And in his waving hair, And looked from that lone post of death In still yet brave despair;

And shouted but once more aloud, "My father! must I stay?"

While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud, The wreathing fires made way.

They wrapt the s.h.i.+p in splendour wild, They caught the flag on high, And streamed above the gallant child Like banners in the sky.

There came a burst of thunder-sound-- The boy--oh! where was he?

Ask of the winds that far around With fragments strewed the sea,--

With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, That well had borne their part:-- But the n.o.blest thing which perished there Was that young faithful heart.

AULD ROBIN GRAY.

FIRST PART.

When the sheep are in the fauld, when the kye's a' at hame, And a' the weary warld to rest are gane, The woes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e, Unkent by my gudeman, wha sleeps sound by me.

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride, But saving a crown he had naething else beside; To mak the crown a pound my Jamie gaed to sea, And the crown and the pound--they were baith for me.

He hadna been gane a twelvemonth and a day When my father brake his arm, and the cow was stown away; My mother she fell sick--my Jamie was at sea-- And auld Robin Gray came a-courting me.

My father couldna work, my mother couldna spin, I toiled day and night, but their bread I couldna win; Auld Rob maintained them baith, and, wi' tears in his e'e, Said, "Jeanie, for their sakes, will ye no marry me?"

My heart it said na, and I looked for Jamie back, But hard blew the winds, and his s.h.i.+p was a wrack; His s.h.i.+p was a wrack--why didna Jamie dee?

Or why am I spared to cry, "Woe is me?"

My father urged me sair--my mother didna speak, But she looket in my face till my heart was like to break; They gied him my hand--my heart was in the sea-- And so Robin Gray he was gudeman to me.

I hadna been his wife a week but only four, When, mournfu' as I sat on the stane at my door, I saw my Jamie's ghaist, for I couldna think it he, Till he said, "I'm come hame, love, to marry thee."

Oh! sair, sair did we greet, and mickle say o' a', I gied him ae kiss and bade him gang awa'.

I wish that I were dead, but I'm no like to dee, For tho' my heart is broken, I'm young, woe's me!

I gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin, I darena think on Jamie, for that would be a sin; But I'll do my best a gude wife to be, For oh! Robin Gray he is kind to me.

SECOND PART.

The winter was come, 'twas simmer nae mair, And, trembling, the leaves were fleeing thro' th' air; "O winter," says Jeanie, "we kindly agree, For the sun he looks wae when he s.h.i.+nes upon me."

Nae longer she mourned, her tears were a' spent; Despair it was come, and she thought it content-- She thought it content, but her cheek it grew pale, And she bent like a lily broke down by the gale.

Her father and mother observed her decay; "What ails ye, my bairn?" they ofttimes would say; "Ye turn round your wheel, but you come little speed, For feeble's your hand and silly's your thread."

She smiled when she heard them, to banish their fear, But wae looks the smile that is seen through a tear, And bitter's the tear that is forced by a love Which honour and virtue can never approve.

Her father was vexed and her mother was wae, But pensive and silent was auld Robin Gray; He wandered his lane, and his face it grew lean, Like the side of a brae where the torrent had been.

Nae questions he spiered her concerning her health, He looked at her often, but aye 'twas by stealth; When his heart it grew grit, and often he feigned To gang to the door to see if it rained.

He took to his bed--nae physic he sought, But ordered his friends all around to be brought; While Jeanie supported his head in its place, Her tears trickled down, and they fell on his face.

"Oh, greet nae mair, Jeanie," said he wi' a groan, "I'm no worth your sorrow--the truth maun be known; Send round for your neighbours, my hour it draws near, And I've that to tell that it's fit a' should hear.

"I've wronged her," he said, "but I kent it owre late; I've wronged her, and sorrow is speeding my date; But a' for the best, since my death will soon free A faithfu' young heart that was ill matched wi' me.

"I lo'ed and I courted her mony a day, The auld folks were for me, but still she said nay; I kentna o' Jamie, nor yet of her vow, In mercy forgive me--'twas I stole the cow.

"I cared not for Crummie, I thought but o' thee-- I thought it was Crummie stood 'twixt you and me; While she fed your parents, oh, did you not say You never would marry wi' auld Robin Gray?

"But sickness at hame and want at the door-- You gied me your hand, while your heart it was sore; I saw it was sore,--why took I her hand?

Oh, that was a deed to my shame o'er the land!

"How truth soon or late comes to open daylight!

For Jamie cam' back, and your cheek it grew white-- White, white grew your cheek, but aye true unto me-- Ay, Jeanie, I'm thankfu'--I'm thankfu' to dee.

"Is Jamie come here yet?"--and Jamie they saw-- "I've injured you sair, lad, so leave you my a'; Be kind to my Jeanie, and soon may it be; Waste nae time, my dauties, in mourning for me."

They kissed his cauld hands, and a smile o'er his face Seemed hopefu' of being accepted by grace; "Oh, doubtna," said Jamie, "forgi'en he will be-- Wha wouldna be tempted, my love, to win thee?"

The first days were dowie while time slipt awa', But saddest and sairest to Jeanie o' a'

Was thinkin' she couldna be honest and right, Wi' tears in her e'e while her heart was sae light.

But nae guile had she, and her sorrow away, The wife of her Jamie, the tear couldna stay; A bonnie wee bairn--the auld folks by the fire-- Oh, now she has a' that her heart can desire.