TRUE LOVE'S DIRGE.

Some love is light and fleets away,
Heigho! the wind and rain;
Some love is deep and scorns decay,
Ah, well-a-day! in vain.

Of loyal love I sing this lay,
Heigho! the wind and rain;
'Tis of a knight and lady gay,
Ah, well-a-day! bright twain.

He loved her,—heart loved ne'er so well,
Heigho! the wind and rain;
She was a cold and proud damsel,
Ah, well-a-day! and vain.

He loved her,-oh, he loved her long,
Heigho! the wind and rain;
But she for love gave bitter wrong,
Ah, well-a-day! Disdain!

It is not meet for knight like me,
Heigho! the wind and rain;
Though scorned, love's recreant to be,
Ah, well-a-day! Refrain.

That brave knight buckled on his brand,
Heigho! the wind and rain;

And fast he sought a foreign strand,
Ah, well-a-day! in pain.

He wandered wide by land and sea,
Heigho the wind and rain;

A mirror of bright constancy.
Ah, well-a-day! in vain.

He would not chide, he would not blame,

Heigho the wind and rain,

But at each shrine he breathed her name, Ah, well-a-day! Amen!

He would not carp, he would not sing,
Heigho! the wind and rain,

That broke his heart with love-longing.
Ah, well-a-day! poor brain.

He scorned to weep, he scorned to sigh,
Heigho! the wind and rain,

But like a true knight he could die,-
Ah, well-a-day! life's vain.

The banner which that brave knight bore,
Heigho! the wind and rain ;

Had scrolled on it, 'Faith Evermore.'
Ah, well-a-day! again.

That banner led the Christian van,
Heigho! the wind and rain;
Against Seljuck and Turcoman.
Ah, well-a-day! bright train.

The fight was o'er, the day was done,
Heigho the wind and rain;
But lacking was that loyal one,—
Ah, well-a-day! sad pain.

They found him on the battle-field,
Heigho! the wind and rain ;

With broken sword and cloven shield,
Ah, well-a-day! in twain.

They found him pillowed on the dead,
Heigho! the wind and rain;

The blood-soaked sod his bridal bed,
Ah, well-a-day! the Slain.

And his pale brow and paler cheek,
Heigho! the wind and rain;
The white moonshine did fall so meek,
Ah! well-a-day! sad strain.

They lifted up the True and Brave,

Heigho! the wind and rain;

And bore him to his lone cold grave,
Ah! well-a-day! in pain.

They buried him on that far strand,
Heigho! the wind and rain ;

His face turned towards his love's own land,
Ah, well-a-day! how vain.

The wearied heart was laid at rest,

Heigho! the wind and rain; The dream of her he liked best,

Ah, well-a-day! again.

They nothing said, but many a tear,
Heigho! the wind and rain;

Rained down on that knight's lowly bier,
Ah, well-a-day! amain.

They nothing said, but many a sigh,
Heigho! the wind and rain;
Told how they wished like him to die,
Ah, well-a-day! sans stain.

With solemn mass and orison,

Heigho! the wind and rain;

They reared to him a cross of stone,
Ah, well-a-day! in pain.

And on it graved with daggers bright,
Heigho! the wind and rain ;

'Here lies a true and gentle knight.'
Ah, well-a-day! Amen!

JEANIE MORRISON.

I've wandered east, I've wandered west,

Through mony a weary way;

But never, never can forget

The love o' life's young day!

The fire that's blawn on Beltane e'en
May weel be black gin Yule ;
But blacker fa' awaits the heart

Where first fond luve grows cule.

Oh dear, dear Jeanie Morrison,
The thochts o' bygane years
Still fling their shadows ower my path,
And blind my een wi' tears!
They blind my een wi' saut, saut tears,
And sair and sick I pine,

As memory idly summons up

The blithe blinks o' langsyne.

'Twas then we luvit ilk ither weel,
'Twas than we twa did part;

Sweet time, sad time! twa bairns at schule,
Twa bairns, and but ae heart!

'Twas then we sat on ae high bink,

To leir1 ilk ither lear 2:

And tones, and looks, and smiles were shed,
Remembered ever mair.

I wonder, Jeanie, often yet
When sitting on that bink,

Cheek touchin' cheek, loof locked in loof,
What our wee heads could think.

When baith bent doun ower ae braid page,
Wi' ae buik on our knee,

Thy lips were on thy lesson, but

My lesson was in thee.

Oh mind ye how we hung our heads,
How cheeks brent red wi' shame,
Whene'er the school-weans laughin' said,

We cleeked thegither hame ?

And mind ye o' the Saturdays

6

When we ran aft to speel the braes

The broomy braes o' June?

My head rins round and round about,

My heart flows like a sea,

As ane by ane the thochts rush back

O' schuletime and o' thee.

3

5

1 learn. 2 learning. palm. lit. hooked = clung. dispersed. climb.

VOL. IV.

O mornin' life! O mornin' luve!
O lichtsome days and lang,

When hinnied hopes around our hearts,
Like summer blossoms sprang!

Oh, mind ye, luve, how oft we left
The deavin' dinsome town,
To wander by the green burnside,

And hear its water croon.

The summer leaves hung ower our heids,
The flowers burst round our feet,

And in the gloamin' i' the wud
The throstle whusslit sweet.

The throstle whusslit i' the wud,
The burn sang to the trees,
And we with Nature's heart in tune,

Concerted harmonies;

And on the knowe abune the burn,
For hours thegither sat

In the silentest o' joy, till baith
Wi' very gladness grat!

Aye, aye, dear Jeanie Morrison,
Tears trinkled down your cheek,
Like dew-beads on a rose, yet nane
Had ony power to speak!

That was a time, a blessed time,

When hearts were fresh and young,
When freely gushed all feelings forth
Unsyllabled-unsung!

I marvel, Jeanie Morrison,

Gin I hae been to thee,

As closely twined wi' earliest thochts
As ye hae been to me?

Oh, tell me gin their music fills

Thine ear as it does mine;

Oh, say gin e'er your heart grows grit
Wi' dreamings o' langsyne?

M m