46. And bring the lassie back to me What sighs and vows amang the knowes Hae pass'd atween us twa! How fond to meet, how wae to part The Powers aboon can only ken To whom the heart is seen, JOHN ANDERSON John Anderson my jo, John, John Anderson my jo, John, Now we maun totter down, John, 25 30 R. Burns CXCVII 5 10 48. Ye were aye leal and true, Jean, To the land o' the leal. Our bonnie bairn's there, Jean, She was baith guid and fair, Jean; To the land o' the leal! Then dry that tearfu' e'e, Jean, To the land o' the leal. In the land o' the leal. ODE ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COLLEGE Ye distant spires, ye antique towers And ye, that from the stately brow Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey, Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among His silver-winding way: Ah happy hills! ah pleasing shade! Where once my careless childhood stray'd, I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to soothe, G.T. III. To breathe a second spring. D 15 20 Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen While some on earnest business bent 'Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign And unknown regions dare descry: Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed, Alas! regardless of their doom Yet see how all around 'em wait 55 The ministers of human fate And black Misfortune's baleful train ! Ah show them where in ambush stand To seize their prey, the murderous band! 60 These shall the fury Passions tear, And Shame that sculks behind; Or pining Love shall waste their youth, Ambition this shall tempt to rise, And grinning Infamy. 65 70 The stings of Falsehood those shall try 75 That mocks the tear it forced to flow; Amid severest woe. Lo, in the vale of years beneath 80 More hideous than their queen : This racks the joints, this fires the veins, 85 That every labouring sinew strains, Those in the deeper vitals rage: Lo! Poverty, to fill the band, That numbs the soul with icy hand, 90 To each his sufferings: all are men, The tender for another's pain, Yet, ah! why should they know their fate, THE SHRUBBERY O happy shades! to me unblest! And heart that cannot rest, agree! This glassy stream, that spreading pine, But fix'd unalterable Care Foregoes not what she feels within, 50. 5 10 And slights the season and the scene. For all that pleased in wood or lawn While Peace possess'd these silent bowers, Her animating smile withdrawn, 15 The saint or moralist should tread This moss-grown alley, musing, slow, Me, fruitful scenes and prospects waste These tell me of enjoyments past, 20 W. Cowper CCI. HYMN TO ADVERSITY Daughter of Jove, relentless power, Whose iron scourge and torturing hour With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. 5 |