Rest thee, while o'er thy wreck I strew
Pale flowers, and leaves of darkest green;
Primroses, snowdrops, lilies fair,

Spring's firstlings- Autumn blossoms rare,
That, trembling in the wintry air,

Shrink from its breathings keen :

The cypress let me gather too,
The willow boughs that ever weep,
And blend them with the sable yew,

To shade thy last, cold, dreamless sleep.
Rest thee, sad heart! thy dirge is sung,
The wreath funereal o'er thee hung,
The pall of silence round thee flung,

Long be thy rest, and deep!

THREE SONGS.

[JAMES HOGG.]

I.

LANG I sat by the broom sae green,
An' oh! my heart was eerie !
For aye this strain was breathed within,
Your laddie will no come near ye!
Lie still, thou wee bit fluttering thing,
What means this weary wavering!
Nae heart returns thy raptured spring,
Your laddie will no come near ye!
His leifu' sang the robin sung

On the bough that hung sae near me ;
Wi' tender grief my heart was wrung,
For oh! the strain was dreary!
The robin's sang it couldna be
That gart the tear-drap blind my ee;
How ken'd the wee bird on the tree
That my laddie wad no come near me?
The new-wean'd lamb on yonder lea,
It bleats out through the braken;
The herried bird upon the tree,

Mourns o'er its nest forsaken ;-
If they are wae, how weel may I?
Nae grief like mine aneath the sky;
The lad I lo'e he caresna by,

Though my fond heart is breaking!

THERE'S nae laddie coming for thee, my dear Jean,
There's nae laddie coming for thee, my dear Jean ;
I hae watch'd thee at midday, at morn, an' at e'en,
An' there's nae laddie coming for thee, my dear Jean.
But be nae down-hearted, though lovers gang by,
Thou 'rt my only sister, thy brother am I;
An' aye in my wee house thou welcome shalt be,
An' while I hae saxpence, I'll share it wi' thee.

O Jeanie, dear Jeanie, when we twa were young,

I sat on your knee, to your bosom I clung;

You kiss'd me, and clasp'd me, and croon❜d your bit sang, An' bore me about when you hardly dought gang.

An' when I fell sick, wi' a red watery ee,

You watch'd your wee brother, and fear'd he wad dee;

I felt the cool hand, and the kindly embrace,

An' the warm trickling tears drappin' aft on my face.

Sae wae was my young heart to see my Jean weep,
I closed my sick ee, though I wasna asleep;
An' I'll never forget till the day that I dee,
The gratitude due, my dear Jeanie, to thee!
Then be nae down-hearted, for nae lad can feel
Sic true love as I do, or ken ye sae weel;
My heart it yearns o'er thee, an' grieved wad I be
If aught were to part my dear Jeanie an' me.

III.

I HAE naebody now, I hae naebody now,
To meet me upon the green,

Wi' light locks waving o'er her brow,
And joy in her deep blue een;
Wi' the raptured kiss, an' the happy smile,
And the dance o' the lightsome fay,
An' the wee bit tale o' news the while
That had happen'd when I was away.

I hae naebody now, I hae naebody now,
To clasp to my bosom at even,
O'er her calm sleep to breathe the vow,
An' pray for a blessing from heaven;
An' the wild embrace, and the gleesome face,
In the morning that met my eye,-

Where are they now-where are they now?
In the cauld, cauld grave they lie.

There's naebody kens, there's naebody kens,-
An' oh! may they never prove, –
That sharpest degree o' agony

For the child o' their earthly love ;-
To see a flower, in its vernal hour,
By slow degrees decay,

Then calmly aneath the hand o' death
Breathe its sweet soul away.

Oh! dinna break, my poor auld heart,
Nor at thy loss repine;

-

For the unseen hand that threw the dart
Was sent frae her Father and thine.

Yet I maun mourn, an' I will mourn,
Even till my latest day;

For though my darling can never return,
I can follow the sooner away.

"I GO NOT FORTH."

[ROBERT HOGG.]

I Go not forth in pride of might,
As warriors have gone,

To combat for my country's right,
But cheerless and alone:
I see from fellow-soldier's eye
No ray of valour gleam,

Nor, flapping in the breeze on high,
Do glorious standards stream.
There is no fair one to confess
The love she long conceal'd,
And to the thrilling soft caress
With maiden fondness yield:
To steal a kiss with glowing lip,
Since it may be the last,
And when we part, upon the ship
A longing look to cast.

Yet, though that careth for me now
No kindred heart there be,

I love thee, O my country!-thou
Art all in all to me!

But son of mine shall never tread
By Scotland's hill and dale,
And, glorying as his father did,
His native country hail.

O Scotland! thou art fair and wide,
And happy hearts hast thou;
But none more true with thee abide

Than his that leaves thee now.

This soul of mine is desolate,
This cheek of mine is dry,
And onward to a dreary fate
From hopelessness I fly.

THE BOY OF HEAVEN.

[MARY HOWITT.]

ONE summer eve, seven little boys
Were playing at the ball;
Seven little boys so beautiful,

Beside a castle wall.

And, whilst they play'd, another came,

And stood among them there;

A little boy with gentle eye,

And thick and curling hair.

The clothes he on his body wore
Were of linen fine and white;

And the girdle that was round his waist
Was like the morning light.

For a little while he look'd on them,
Look'd lovingly and smiled;
When unto him the eldest said,

"Whence comest thou, fair child?
"Art thou the son of some great king,
And in a hidden place

Hast been conceal'd? for until now
I never saw thy face!

"Dwell'st thou among the lonely hills,
Or in the forest low,-

And dost thou chase the running deer,
A hunter with thy bow?

"And tell us what wild woodland name
Have they unto thee given?"

"They call'd me Willie," said he, " on earth,——— They call me so in heaven!

"My father with King David dwells,

In the land of God dwells he;

And my sweet mother, so kind and good,

Is set by the Virgin's knee.

"Seven years ago we went to heaven;

'Twas in the winter chill,

When icy cold the winds did blow,

And mists were on the hill;

"But when we reach'd the land of heaven,

'Twas like a summer's day;

The skies were blue, and a thousand flowers
On the ground before us lay.

"Oh, the land of heaven is beautiful!
There no cold winds do blow ;

And fairer apples than ever ye saw,

Within the gardens grow!

"I have walk'd by the side of Abraham; I have sate at Mary's knee;

And the ten thousand little ones

Of heaven, they play with me!

"We wander by the Rivers of Life, And through the forests old,

And o'er the boundless hills of heaven.

The sheep of God's own fold."

Then up and spoke a little boy,
The least of the company,

"My mother is dead, and gone to heaven,
Let me too go with thee!"

"Thou canst not go with me," he said,

"That home thou canst not win,

If thou have an ill word on thy tongue,
Or in thy heart a sin;

"For the way is long and wearisome,
Through peril great it lies;

And with any sin upon thy soul,

From earth thou couldst not rise.

"There are waters deep and wild to pass,
And who hath a load of sin,

Like the heavy rock that will not float,
Is tumbled headlong in.

"And there are raging fires to pass,
And like the iron stone

Is sin,-red-hot as a burning share-
It scorches to the bone.

"Wilt try the path? wilt go with me
Now thou dost the peril know?"
The motherless boy turn'd round and wept,
For he said, "I dare not go!"

Now the Boy of Heaven to a chamber came
Before the break of day;

And he marvell'd if 'twere his sister dear
That on the cold ground lay;

For she used to have a pillow of down
And silken curtains bright;

But he knew her by her small, small foot,
And her hand so small and white;

And he knew her by the long bright hair
That on her shoulders lay;

But the pleasant things about the room
Were taken all away.

And "Oh," he said,

66

my sister dear,

Have they left thee all alone?"

Just then she spoke in troubled dreams,

66

And made a gentle moan.

They have taken from me my pillow of down,

They have given me straw instead ;

They have taken from me the wheaten cakes,
And given me barley bread!

"The strings of pearl my mother wore
They have taken from me away;
And the little book with the silver clasps
That she bade me read each day!
"My heart is grown as heavy as lead,
And pale and thin my cheek;

I sit in corners of the house,

And hardly dare to speak!

"For they are stern, and love me not, No gentle friends are here—

I wish I was in the heavens above

With my own brother dear!"

Then Willie he bent him down to the ground,

And knelt upon his knee;

He breathed heaven's breath upon her lips,

And gave her kisses three.