SONG.

Come, let me take thee to my breast,

And pledge we ne'er shall sunder; And I shall spurn as vilest dust

The world's wealth and grandeur. And do I hear my Jeanie own

That equal transports move her? I ask for dearest life alone,

That I may live and love her.

Thus in my arms, wi' all thy charms,

I clasp my countless treasure;
I'll seek nae mair o' heaven to share

Than sic a moment's pleasure ;
And by thy een sae bonnie blue,

I swear I'm thine for ever! And on thy lips I seal my vow,

And break it shall I never.

BURNS.

THE PLEDGE OF LOVE.

This band, which bound thy yellow hair,

Is mine, sweet girl! thy pledge of love; It claims my warmest, dearest care,

Like relics left of saints above.

Oh! I will wear it near my heart;

'Twill bind my heart in bonds to thee; From me again 'twill ne'er depart,

But mingle in the grave with me.

The dew I gather from thy lip

Is not so dear to me as this; That I but for a moment sip,

And banquet on a transient bliss :

This will recall each youthful scene,

E'en when our lives are on the wane; The leaves of love will still be green,

When memory bids them bud again,

Oh! little lock of golden hue,

In gentle-waving ringlet curl'd,
By the dear head on which you grew,

I would not lose you for the world !

Not though a thousand more adorni

The polish'd brow where once you shone, Like rays which gild a cloudless morn,

Beneath Columbia's fervid zone.

BYRON.

TO *

FROM MELEAGER.

Now are the vernal hours;

The white-robed violet blooms,
Ånd hyacinth, glad with showers,

The breathing air perfumes ;
And, scatter'd o'er the mountain's side,
The fragrant lily gleams in virgin pride.

Now are the vernal hours

Zenophila the fair,
The loveliest flower of flowers,

The sweet beyond compare,
Doth on her opening lips disclose
Divine persuasions never-fading rose.

Meadows ! why do ye wreathe

In smiles your sunny tresses ? Ye no such odours breathe,

Though spring your wardrobe dresses; Ye no such glorious charms display, As she, the maiden that inspires my lay.

MERIVALE.

THE ROSE.

As late each flower that sweetest blows
I pluck'd the garden's pride!
Within the petals of a Rose
A sleeping Love I spied.

Around his brows a beamy wreath
Of many a lucent hue;
All purple, glow'd his cheek, beneath
Inebriate with dew.

I softly seized the unguarded Power,
Nor scared his balmy rest ;
And plac'd him, caged within the flower,
On spotless Sara's breast.

But when unweeting of the guile
Awoke the prisoner sweet,
He struggled to escape awhile,
And stamp'd his faery feet.

Ah! soon the soul-entrancing sight
Subdued the impatient boy!
He gazed! he thrill’d with deep delight!
Then clapp'd his wings with joy.

“ And O!” he cried—“of magic kind
What charms this throne endear!
Some other Love let Venus find
I'll fix my empire here."

COLERIDGE.