We struggle and aspire, Our hearts must die, except they breathe The air of fresh desire.

Sixteen summers had she seen, A rosebud just unsealing; Without sorrow, without fear, In her mountain shealing.

She was made for happy thoughts,
For playful wit and laughter;
Singing on the hills alone,
With echo singing after.

She had hair as deeply black
As the cloud of thunder;
She had brows so beautiful,
And dark eyes flashing under.

Bright and witty shepherd-girl,
Beside a mountain water,
I found her, whom a king himself
Would proudly call his daughter.

She was sitting 'mong the crags,
Wild and mossed and hoary;
Reading in an ancient book
Some old martyr story.

Tears were starting to her eyes,

Solemn thought was o'er her; When she saw in that lone place A stranger stand before her.

Crimson was her sunny check,

And her lips seemed moving With the beatings of her heart;— How could I help loving?

On a crag I sat me down,

Upon the mountain hoary,
And made her read again to me
That old pathetic story.

Then she sang me mountain songs,
Till the air was ringing

With her clear and warbling voice,
Like a skylark singing.

And when eve came on at length,
Among the blooming heather,
We herded on the mountain-side
Her father's flock together.

And near unto her father's house

I said "Good night!" with sorrow, And inly wished that I might say, "We'll meet again to-morrow.'

I watched her tripping to her home; I saw her meet her mother.

183

The hare likes the brake and the braird on the lea;

But Lucy likes Jamie;- she turned and she lookit,

She thocht the dear place she wad never mair see.

Ah, weel may young Jamie gang dowie

and cheerless!

And weel may he greet on the bank o' the burn!

For bonnie sweet Lucy, sae gentle and peerless,

Lies cauld in her grave, and will never

return!

UNKNOWN.

SUMMER DAYS.

IN summer, when the days were long, We walked together in the wood;

Our heart was light, our step was strong, Sweet flutterings were in our blood,

In summer, when the days were long.

We strayed from morn till evening

We walked mid poppies red as flame, Or sat upon the yellow downs;

And always wished our life the same.

In summer, when the days were long, We leaped the hedge-row, crossed the brook;

And still her voice flowed forth in song, Or else she read some graceful book, In summer, when the days were long.

And then we sat beneath the trees, With shadows lessening in the noon; And in the sunlight and the breeze We feasted, many a gorgeous June, While larks were singing o'er the leas.