'Twas then we sat on ae laigh bink, To leir ilk ither lear;

And tones and looks and smiles were shed, Remembered evermair.

I wonder, Jeanie, aften 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.

O, mind ye how we hung our heads,
How cheeks brent red wi' shame,
Whene'er the scule-weans, laughin', said
We cleeked thegither hame?

And mind ye o' the Saturdays,

(The scule then skail't at noon,) When we ran off 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' scule-time and o' thee.

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

When hinnied hopes around our hearts
Like simmer blossoms sprang !

O, mind ye, luve, how aft we left
The deavin' dinsome toun,

To wander by the green burnside,
And hear its waters croon ?

JEANIE MORRISON.

The simmer leaves hung ower our heads,
The flowers burst round our feet,
And in the gloamin o' the wood
The throssil whusslit sweet;

The throssil whusslit in the wood,
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 silentness o' joy, till baith
Wi' very gladness grat.

Ay, ay, dear Jeanie Morrison,
Tears trinkled doun 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?

O, tell me gin their music fills

Thine ear as it does mine!

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

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

I've borne a weary lot;

But in my wanderings, far or near,

Ye never were forgot.

131

The fount that first burst frae this heart
Still travels on its way;
And channels deeper, as it rins,
The luve o' life's young day.

O dear, dear Jeanie Morrison,
Since we were sindered young
I've never seen your face, nor heard
The music o' your tongue;

But I could hug all wretchedness,

And happy could I die,

Did I but ken your heart still dreamed

O' bygane days and me!

These poor eyes, you called, I ween, "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen.

When I heard you sing that burden
In my vernal days and bowers,
Other praises disregarding

I but harkened that of yours,

Only saying

In heart-playing,

"Blessed eyes mine eyes have been,

If the sweetest HIS have seen !"

Cold the sun shines down the door. If you stood there would you whisper "Love, I love you," as before,— Death pervading

Now, and shading

Eyes you sang of, that yestreen,
As the sweetest ever seen?

Yes! I think, were you beside them,
Near the bed I die upon,-

Though their beauty you denied them,
As you stood there looking down,
You would truly

Call them duly,

For the love's sake found therein,"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

And if you looked down upon them,
And if they looked up to you,
All the light which has foregone them
Would be gathered back anew!
They would truly

Be as duly

Love-transformed to beauty's sheen,— "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

But, ah me! you only see me
In your thoughts of loving man,
Smiling soft perhaps and dreamy
Through the wavings of my fan,-
And unweeting

Go repeating,

In your reverie serene,

"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

133

While my spirit leans and reaches
From my body still and pale,
Fain to hear what tender speech is
In your love, to help my bale—
O my poet,

Come and show it!

Come, of latest love, to glean
"Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

O my poet, O my prophet,

When you praised their sweetness so,

Did you think in singing of it,

That it might be near to go?

Had you fancies

From their glances,

That the grave would quickly screen "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen?"

No reply! The fountain's warble
In the court-yard sounds alone:
As the water to the marble

So my heart falls, with a moan,
From love-sighing

To this dying!

Death forerunneth Love, to win "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen."

Will you come, when I'm departed
Where all sweetnesses are hid-
Where thy voice, my tender-hearted,
Will not lift up either lid?
Cry, O lover,

Love is over!

Cry beneath the cypress green-— 66 Sweetest eyes, were ever seen!"