SONG.

Sweet spring! full of sweet days and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie,
My music shows ye have your closes;
And all must die.

Only a sweet and virtuous soul,
Like seasoned timber, never gives;

But though the whole world turn to coal,
Then chiefly lives.

GEORGE HERBERT.

SONG.

THE world goes up, and the world goes down,
And the sunshine follows the rain;
And yesterday's sneer and yesterday's frown
Can never come over again,

Sweet wife,

No, never come over again.

For woman is warm though man be cold,
And the night will hallow the day;

Till the heart which at even was weary and old
Can rise in the morning gay,

Sweet wife,

To its work in the morning gay.

CHARLES KINGSLEY.

WALY, WALY, BUT LOVE BE BONNY.

O WALY, waly up the bank,

And waly, waly down the brae! And waly, waly yon burn-side,

Where I and my love wont to gae!

I leaned my back unto an aik;
I thought it was a trusty tree;
But first it bowed, and syne it brak :
Sae my true love did lightly me!

O waly, waly, but love be bonny
A little time, while it is new;

But when 'tis auld it waxeth cauld,

And fades away like the morning dew.

O wherefore should I busk my head?
Or wherefore should I kame my hair?

For my true love has me forsook,

And says he'll never love me mair.

Now Arthur-Seat shall be my bed:

The sheets shall ne'er be fyled by me;

Saint Anton's well shall be my drink,

Sin' my true love has forsaken me.

WALY, WALY, BUT LOVE BE BONNY.

Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw,
And shake the green leaves off the tree?
O gentle Death, when wilt thou come?
For of my life I'm weary.

'Tis not the frost that freezes fell,
Nor blawing snaw's inclemency;
'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry,

But my love's heart grown cauld to me.

When we cam in by Glasgow town,
We were a comely sight to see;
My love was clad in the black velvet,
And I mysel' in cramasie.

But had I wist, before I kissed,

That love had been sae ill to win, I'd locked my heart in a case of gowd, And pinned it with a silver pin.

O, O, if my young babe were born,
And set upon the nurse's knee,

And I mysel' were dead and gane,

And the green grass growin' over me!

ANONYMOUS.

OLD TIMES.

I.

OLD times, old times, the gay old times,
When I was young and free,
And heard the merry Easter-chimes
Under the sally tree!

My Sunday palm beside me placed,
My cross upon my hand,

A heart at rest within my breast,

And sunshine on the land!

Old times! Old times!

II.

It is not that my fortunes flee,
Nor that my cheek is pale,

I mourn whene'er I think of thee,
My darling native vale!

A wiser head I have, I know,

Than when I loitered there;

But in my wisdom there is woe,
And in my knowledge care.

Old times! Old times!

III.

I've lived to know my share of joy,

To feel my share of pain,

OLD TIMES.

To learn that friendship's self can cloy,

To love and love in vain ;

To feel a pang and wear a smile,
To tire of other climes,

To like my own unhappy isle,

And sing the gay old times!

Old times! Old times!

IV.

And sure the land is nothing changed:

The birds are singing still;

The flowers are springing where we ranged;
There's sunshine on the hill.

The sally, waving o'er my head,
Still sweetly shades my frame;

But ah, those happy days are fled,
And I am not the same.

Old times! Old times!

V.

O come again, ye merry times,
Sweet, sunny, fresh, and calm!
And let me hear those Easter-chimes,
And wear my Sunday palm.
If I could cry away mine eyes,
My tears would flow in vain ;
If I could waste my heart in sighs,
They'd never come again!

Old times! Old times!

GERALD GRIFFIN.