Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl No more at dawning morn I rise, HE IS GONE ON THE MOUNTAIN. SIR WALTER SCOTT. From the "Lady of the Lake." HE is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font, re-appearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow ; But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary; >But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. Waft the leaves that are searest ; But our flower was in flushing When blighting was nearest. Fleet foot on the correi, Sage counsel in cumber, How sound is thy slumber! Thou art gone, and for ever! JOCK O' HAZELDEAN. SIR WALTER SCOTT. Modernised from the ancient ballad of "Jock o' Hazelgreen." "A chain o' gold ye sall not lack, Nor braid to bind your hair, Nor palfrey fresh and fair; Shall ride our forest queen :" But aye she loot the tears down fa' The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide, The priest and bridegroom wait the bride, She's o'er the Border and awa' JAMES HOGG, the "Ettrick Shepherd," born Jan. 25, 1772, died Nov. 21, 1835. Air-"Andro and his cutty gun." ON Ettrick clear there grows a brier, Had I her hame at my wee house, But Peggy's dearer far to me. WHEN THE KYE COME HAME. JAMES HOGG. Air-"The blaithrie o't." 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 bonnie lassie When the kye come hame. 'Tis not beneath the burgonet, There the blackbird bigs his nest When the bluart bears a pearl, And the daisy turns a pea, And the bonnie lucken gowan Has fauldit up his ee, |