SONG

A LAKE and a fairy boat

To sail in the moonlight clear,— And merrily we would float

From the dragons that watch us here!

Thy gown should be snow-white silk,
And strings of orient pearls,
Like gossamers dipped in milk,
Should twine with thy raven curls.

Red rubies should deck thy hands,
And diamonds should be thy dower
But fairies have broke their wands,
And wishing has lost its power!

Thomas Hood.

A SEA DIRGE

FULL fathom five thy father lies:
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,

But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange;
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell :
Hark! now I hear them, -

Ding, dong, bell.

Shakespeare.

LULLABY- ANNAN WATER

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LULLABY

SWEET and low, sweet and low,

Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea!

Over the rolling waters go,

Come from the dying moon, and blow,

Blow him again to me;

While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;

Rest, rest, on mother's breast,

Father will come to thee soon;

Father will come to his babe in the nest,

Silver sails all out of the west

Under the silver moon :

Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.

Alfred Tennyson.

ANNAN WATER

ANNAN Water 's wading deep,

And my Love Annie 's wondrous bonny; And I am loath she should wet her feet, Because I love her best of ony.

He's loupen on his bonny gray,

He rode the right gate and the ready;

For all the storm he wadna stay,
For seeking of his bonny lady.

And he has ridden o'er field and fell,
Through moor, and moss, and many a mire;
His spurs of steel were sair to bide,

And from her four feet flew the fire.

"My bonny gray, now play your part!
If ye
be the steed that wins my dearie,
With corn and hay ye'll be fed for aye,
And never spur shall make you wearie."

The gray was a mare, and a right gude mare; But when she wan the Annan Water,

She could not have ridden the ford that night Had a thousand merks been wadded at her.

"O boatman, boatman, put off your boat,

Put off your boat for golden money!" But for all the gold in fair Scotland,

He dared not take him through to Annie.

"Oh, I was sworn so late yestreen,
Not by a single oath, but mony!
I'll cross the drumly stream to-night,
Or never could I face my honey."

The side was stey, and the bottom deep,
From bank to brae the water pouring;
The bonny gray mare she swat for fear,

For she heard the water-kelpy roaring.

THE SAILOR'S WIFE

He spurred her forth into the flood,

I wot she swam both strong and steady;

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But the stream was broad, and her strength did fail,

And he never saw his bonny lady!

Unknown.

THE SAILOR'S WIFE

AND are ye sure the news is true?
And are ye sure he's weel?
Is this a time to think o' wark?
Ye jades, lay by your wheel;
Is this the time to spin a thread,
When Colin's at the door?

Reach down my cloak, I'll to the quay,
And see him come ashore.

For there's nae luck about the house,
There's nae luck at a';

There's little pleasure in the house
When our gudeman 's awa.

And gie to me my bigonet,
My bishop's satin gown;

For I maun tell the baillie's wife
That Colin's in the town.
My Turkey slippers maun gae on,
My stockins pearly blue;
It's a' to pleasure our gudeman,

For he 's baith leal and true.

Rise, lass, and mak a clean fireside,
Put on the muckle pot;

Gie little Kate her button gown
And Jock his Sunday coat;
And mak their shoon as black as slaes,
Their hose as white as snaw;
It's a' to please my ain gudeman,
For he's been long awa.

There's twa fat hens upo' the coop
Been fed this month and mair;
Mak haste and thraw their necks about,
That Colin weel may fare;

And spread the table neat and clean,
Gar ilka thing look braw,

For wha can tell how Colin fared
When he was far awa?

Sae true his heart, sae smooth his speech,

His breath like caller air;

His very foot has music in 't

As he comes up the stair
And will I see his face again?
And will I hear him speak?
I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought,
In troth I'm like to greet!

If Colin's weel, and weel content,
I hae nae mair to crave:

And gin I live to keep him sae,
I'm blest aboon the lave:
And will I see his face again,
And will I hear him speak?
I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought,
In troth I'm like to greet.