ARABELLA. Her weeping mother sees the bier, Borne slowly through the inquiring throng; These wailings and that heart-wrung tear, Will rankle in her bosom long. Her gray-hair'd father bears the pall, Her youthful lover swells the train;- The grave By receives this opening flower, all who knew her, lov'd, caress'd; Cropp'd down by thine unerring power, Consumption, scourge to the human breast. The pall's remov'd, the gilded plate Dead Arabella! age, and date, We thought thee older than thou seem'd, When Heaven reclaim'd thee as its own: "Etatis Seventeen!"-we deem'd Thy teens were o'er, thy girlhood gone. 211 Thy maiden mind was premature, The sexton as he clamp'd the sod, On thy bone-mingled bed of earth, But carelessly some ditty sang, As with his spade he smooth'd the dust; Perhaps, love never lent his pang To this rude misanthropist. At pleasure now the tempest roars, Sun, wind, or rain, she heeds them not,— To heaven the maiden's soul has fled, While the mortal part, by man forgot, Lies mingling with its kindred dead. Such is the tale, my brother worm! Till death's mandates above thee lower. SWEET! COME AWAY MY DARLING. 213 SWEET! COME AWAY MY DARLING. SWEET! come away my darling, And range Rowallan glens with me; Lies blooming all before thee; And strews around the spangled lea, Full many a dainty garland. Sweet! come away my darling, Rowallan woods through summer's reign, Ne'er smiled upon a blossom, So peerless as the Lady Jane; Yon water-lily's bosom, Like thine's, pure without a stain, As her snowy-cups repose them, Young Fairlie and his darling, They wander'd down the greenwood's dell, Love panted all its fears to tell; But hope may ward each willing art, That intervening strives to part Young Fairlie and his darling. The above was suggested, after reading the following sentence in the history and descent of the house of Rowallan: "Tradition still points out the spot where Fairlie was married to the heiress of Rowallan. The ceremony was performed by a curate in the fields, about a quarter of a mile from the house of Rowallan, at a tree, still called the marriage tree, which stands on the top of a steep bank, above that part of the stream, called 'Janet's Kirn.” APRIL IS IN MY MARY'S FACE. Air.-In "TEKILI." APRIL is in my Mary's face, And wantons round to be caress'd, And tells the blooming maiden May, The hawthorn, now, the spreading sloe, When autumn's breath has brown'd the groves, The eyebright, and the asphodel, Till winter steals across the dell; FAIR MARY ANNE. Then, Mary, will the bleak snow-storm, Enshrines each dear-loved scene from thee. wwwwwwww 215 FAIRY MARY ANNE. Air.. "OH! HAD WE SOME BRIGHT LITTLE Isle. "" WHEN ruby-faced twilight danced over the hill, When the breeze rustled o'er The wan leaves on the tree, And strew'd all the shore, And the sheaf-cover'd lea; While stars twinkled bright in the firmament blue, My bosom throbb'd quick, o'er the banks as I trod, As the storm gather'd round, Through the darkness profound; For Love was my guide to the jessamine bower, |