COME, all ye jolly shepherds

That whistle through the glen,

I'll tell ye of a secret

That courtiers dinna ken:
What is the greatest bliss

That the tongue o' man can name?

'Tis to woo a bonny lassie

When the kye comes hame!

When the kye comes hame,

When the kye comes hame,

"Tween the gloaming and the mirk,
When the kye comes hame!

'Tis not beneath the coronet,
Nor canopy of state,
"Tis not on couch of velvet,

Nor arbor of the great,-
'Tis beneath the spreading birk,
In the glen without the name,
Wi' a bonny, bonny lassie,
When the kye comes hame!
There the blackbird bigs his nest
For the mate he loes to see,
And on the topmost bough,
O, a happy bird is he;
Where he pours his melting ditty,

And love is a' the theme,
And he 'll woo his bonny lassie
When the kye comes hame!
When the blewart bears a pearl,
And the daisy turns a pea,

And the bonny lucken gowan

Has fauldit up her ee,

Then the laverock frae the blue lift
Doops down, an' thinks nae shame

To woo his bonny lassie
When the kye comes hame!

See yonder pawkie shepherd,
That lingers on the hill,
His ewes are in the fauld,

An' his lambs are lying still;
Yet he downa gang to bed,

For his heart is in a flame,
To meet his bonny lassie

When the kye comes hame!
When the little wee bit heart
Rises high in the breast,
An' the little wee bit starn

Rises red in the east,

O there's a joy sac dear,

That the heart can hardly frame,
Wi' a bonny, bonny lassie,
When the kye comes hame!

Then since all nature joins

In this love without alloy,
O, wha wad prove a traitor

To nature's dearest joy?
O, wha wad choose a crown,
Wi' its perils and its fame,
And miss his bonny lassie
When the kye comes hame?

JAMES HOGG.

H, loosen the snood that you wear Janette,

Let ose tathgle a band in your hair my pet;

For the world to me had no daintier sight
Than your brown hair veiling your shoulder
white;

Your beautiful dark brown hair - my pet. It was brown with a golden gloss, Janette, It was finer than silk of the floss-my pet; "Twas a beautiful mist falling down to your wrist, 'Twas a thing to be braided, and jeweled, and kissed 'Twas the loveliest hair in the world - my pet.

My arm was the arm of a clown, Janette,
It was sinewy, bristled and brown — my pet;
But warmly and softly it loved to caress

Your round white neck and your wealth of tress,
Your beautiful plenty of hair- my pet.
Your eyes had a swimming glory, Janette,
Revealing the old, dear story—my pet;

They were gray with that chastened tinge of the sky When the trout leaps quickest to snap the fly,

my pet.

And they matched with your golden hair
Your lips-but I have no words, Janette-
They were fresh as the twitter of birds- my pet,
When the spring is young, and roses are wet,
With the dew-drops in each red bosom set,

And they suited your gold-brown hair-my pet.
Oh, you tangled my life in your hair, Janette,
"Twas a silken and golden snare- my pet;
But, so gentle the bondage, my soul did implore
The right to continue your slave evermore,

With my fingers enmeshed in your hair-my pet.

Thus ever I dream what you were, Janette,
With your lips and your eyes and your hair — my pet;
In the darkness of desolate years I moan,
And my tears fall bitterly over the stone
That covers your golden hair - my pet.

CHARLES GRAHAM HALPINE.

M

Y heart is chilled, and my pulse is slow,
But often and often will memory go,
Like a blind child lost in a waste of snow,
Back to the days when I loved you so-
The beautiful long ago.

I sit here dreaming them through and through.
The blissful moments I shared with you—
The sweet, sweet days when our love was new,
When I was trustful and you were true-
Beautiful days, but few!

Blest or wretched, fettered or free,
Why should I care how your life may be,
Or whether you wander by land or sea?
I only know you are dead to me,

Ever and hopelessly.

Oh, how often at day's decline

I pushed from my window the curtaining vine,

To see from your lattice the lamp-light shine—
Type of a message that, half divine,

Flashed from your heart to mine.
Once more the starlight is silvering all;
The roses sleep by the garden wall;
The night bird warbles his madrigal,
And I hear again through the sweet air fall
The evening bugle call.

But summers will vanish and years will wane,
And bring no light to your window-pane;
No gracious sunshine or patient rain
Can bring dead love back to life again:
I call up the past in vain.

My heart is heavy, my heart is old,
And that proves dross which I counted gold;
I watch no longer your curtain's fold;
The window is dark and the night is cold,
And the story forever told.
ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN.
(Florence Percy).

OOK off, dear Love, across the sallow sands,
And mark yon meeting of the sun and sea:
How long they kiss in sight of all the lands—
Ah! longer, longer we.

Now in the sea's red vintage melts the sun,
As Egypt's pearl dissolved in rosy wine,

And Cleopatra night drinks all. "Tis done.
Love, lay thine hand in mine.
Come forth, sweet stars, and comfort heaven's heart;
Glimmer, ye waves, round else unlighted sands.
O Night! divorce our sun and sky apart -
Never our lips, our hands.

SIDNEY LANIER.