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OW THE CLIFF. 125

He'll think, when I to market went Iloitered by the way;
He'll think a willing ear I lent to all the lads might say;
He'll think some other lover's hand, among my tresses
noosed,
From the ears where he had placed them my rings of pearl
unloosed;
He'll think when I was sporting so beside his marble well,
My pearls fell in—and what to say, alas ! I cannot tell.

He’ll say, I am a woman, and we are all the same;
He'll say, I loved, when he was here to whisper of his flame—
But when he went to Tunis, my virgin troth had broken,
And thought no more of Muga, and cared not for his token.
My ear-rings! my ear-rings: oh luckless, luckless well,—
For what to say to Muga—alas ! I cannot tell.

I’ll tell the truth to Muga—and I hope he will believe—
That I thought of him at morning and thought of him at
eve;
That, musing on my lover when down the sun was gone,
His ear-rings in my hand I held, by the fountain all alone;
And that my mind was o'er the sea when from my hand

they fell, And that deep his love lies in my heart, as they lie in the well. ANONYMOUS. Spanish.

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“QEE where the crest of the long promontory,
Decked by October in crimson and brown,
Lies like the scene of some fairy-land story,
Over the sands to the deep sloping down.
See the white mist on the hidden horizon
Hang like the folds of the curtain of fate;
See where yon shadow the green water flies on,
Cast from a cloud for the conclave too late.

“See the small ripples in curving ranks chasing
Every light breeze running out from the shore,
Gleeful as children when merrily racing,
Hands interlocked, o'er a wide meadow floor.
See round the pier how the tossing wave sparkles,
Bright as the hope in a love-lighted breast;
See the one sail in the sunlight that darkles,
Laboring home from the land of the west.

“See the low surf where it restlessly tumbles,
Swiftly advancing, and then in retreat;
See how the tall cliff yields slowly and crumbles,
Sliding away to the waves at our feet.
Sure is thy victory, emblem of weakness,
Certain thine overthrow, ponderous wall;
Brittle is sternness, but mighty is meekness—
O wave that will conquer! O cliff that must fall !”

“Ah lady, how deep is the truth of your teaching !
All that delights and enthralls you I see;
But little you dream of the meaning far-reaching,
Yea more than you meant them, your words have
for me.
Light run my fancies that once were too sober;
All the fair land of the future lies spread
Brightly before me in hues of October;
Homeward, full laden, my ship turns her head.

“Dimly across them falls fate's mystic curtain—
If but thy fingers could draw it away,
Making the fanciful turn to the certain,
Then would the sounds and the sights of to-day
Ring like the strains of a ballad pathetic,
Heard when the voice of the singer is dumb;
Glow like the great words on pages prophetic,
Read when the fingers that wrote them are numb.

3AMIE'S ON THE STORMY SEA. 127

“Into the depths of thy dreamy eyes peering,
Watching thy lips for some shadowy sign,
Trembling in doubt betwixt hoping and fearing,
Stands my poor soul and appeals unto thine.
Barren as sea-sand is every ambition—
Pride proves of clay when its feet are revealed;
Only affection brings joy's full fruition—
O love that will triumph 1 O life that must yield !”
EDWIN R. Johnson,

Jamie's on the Stormy Sea.

RE the twilight bat was flitting,
In the sunset, at her knitting,

Sang a lonely maiden, sitting

Underneath the threshold tree;
And as daylight died before us,
And the evening star shone o'er us,
Fitful rose her gentle chorus,

“Jamie's on the stormy sea.”

Curfew bells remotely ringing,
Mingled with her sweet voice singing,
And the last red ray seemed clinging
Lingeringly to tower and tree,
And her evening song ascending,
With the scene and season blending,
Ever had the same low ending,
“Jamie's on the stormy sea.”

“Blow, thou west wind, blandly hover

Round the bark that bears my lover;

Blow and waft him safely over,
To his own dear home and me;

For when night-winds rend the willow,

Sleep forsakes my lonely pillow,

Thinking on the raging billow,
Jamie's on the stormy sea.”

How could I but list, but linger
To the song, and near the singer,
Sweetly wooing heaven to bring hel
Jamie from the stormy sea?
And while yet her voice did name me,
Forth I sprang—my heart o'ercame me,
“Grieve no more, sweet; I am Jamie,
Home returned to love and thee.”
ANONYMOUS.

Go, Forget JMe.

O, forget me—why should sorrow O'er that brow a shadow fling? Go, forget me—and to-morrow Brightly smile and sweetly sing. Smile—though I shall not be near thee: Sing—though I shall never hear thee: May thy soul with pleasure shine, Lasting as the gloom of mine.

Like the sun, thy presence glowing,
Clothes the meanest things in light;
And when thou, like him, art going,
Loveliest objects fade in night.
All things looked so bright about thee,
That they nothing seem without thee;
By that pure and lucid mind
Earthly things were too refined.

ŞEANIE MORRISON. 129

Go, thou vision, wildly gleaming,
Softly on my soul that fell;
Go, for me no longer beaming—
Hope and Beauty fare ye well!
Go, and all that once delighted
Take, and leave me all benighted—
Glory's burning, generous swell,
Fancy, and the Poet's shell.

CHARLES WOLFE.

Jeanie JMorrison.

IV; wandered east, I’ve wandered west,
Through mony a weary way;
But never, never can forget
The luve 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.

O 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.

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