Part 200

I knew the law forbade the banns; I knew my king abhorred her race; Who never bent before their clans Must bow before their ladies' grace. Take all my forfeited domain, I cannot wage with kinsmen strife: Take knightly gear and noble name, And I will keep my Irish wife.

My Irish wife has clear blue eyes, My heaven by day, my stars by night; And twin-like truth and fondness lies Within her swelling bosom white. My Irish wife has golden hair, Apollo's harp had once such strings, Apollo's self might pause to hear Her bird-like carol when she sings.

I would not give my Irish wife For all the dames of the Saxon land; I would not give my Irish wife For the Queen of France's hand; For she to me is dearer Than castles strong, or lands, or life: In death I would be near her, And rise beside my Irish wife.

Thomas D'Arcy McGee [1825-1868]

MY WIFE'S A WINSOME WEE THING

See is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a bonnie wee thing, This sweet wee wife o' mine.

I never saw a fairer, I never lo'ed a dearer, And niest my heart I'll wear her, For fear my jewel tine.

She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a bonnie wee thing, This sweet wee wife o' mine.

The warld's wrack we share o't, The warsle and the care o't: Wi' her I'll blithely bear it, And think my lot divine.

Robert Burns [1759-1796]

LETTICE

I said to Lettice, our sister Lettice, While drooped and glistened her eyelash brown, "Your man's a poor man, a cold and dour man, There's many a better about our town." She smiled securely - "He loves me purely: A true heart's safe, both in smile or frown; And nothing harms me while his love warms me, Whether the world go up or down."

"He comes of strangers, and they are rangers, And ill to trust, girl, when out of sight: Fremd folk may blame ye, and e'en defame ye, A gown oft handled looks seldom white." She raised serenely her eyelids queenly, - "My innocence is my whitest gown; No harsh tongue grieves me while he believes me, Whether the world go up or down."

"Your man's a frail man, was ne'er a hale man, And sickness knocketh at every door, And death comes making bold hearts cower, breaking -" Our Lettice trembled; - but once, no more. "If death should enter, smite to the center Our poor home palace, all crumbling down, He cannot fright us, nor disunite us, Life bears Love's cross, death brings Love's crown."

Dinah Maria Mulock Craik [1826-1887]

"IF THOU WERT BY MY SIDE, MY LOVE"

If thou wert by my side, my love, How fast would evening fail In green Bengala's palmy grove, Listening the nightingale!

If thou, my love, wert by my side, My babies at my knee, How gayly would our pinnace glide O'er Gunga's mimic sea!

I miss thee at the dawning gray, When, on our deck reclined, In careless ease my limbs I lay And woo the cooler wind.

I miss thee when by Gunga's stream My twilight steps I guide, But most beneath the lamp's pale beam I miss thee from my side.

I spread my books, my pencil try, The lingering noon to cheer, But miss thy kind, approving eye, Thy meek, attentive ear.

But when at morn and eve the star Beholds me on my knee, I feel, though thou art distant far, Thy prayers ascend for me.

Then on! then on! where duty leads, My course be onward still, O'er broad Hindostan's sultry meads, O'er bleak Almorah's hill.

That course nor Delhi's kingly gates, Nor mild Malwah detain; For sweet the bliss us both awaits By yonder western main.

Thy towers, Bombay, gleam bright, they say, Across the dark blue sea; But ne'er were hearts so light and gay As then shall meet in thee!

Reginald Heber [1783-1826]

THE SHEPHERD'S WIFE'S SONG From "The Mourning Garment"

Ah, what is love? It is a pretty thing, As sweet unto a shepherd as a king, And sweeter, too: For kings have cares that wait upon a crown, And cares can make the sweetest love to frown: Ah then, ah then, If country loves such sweet desires do gain, What lady would not love a shepherd swain?