Part 86

When he cam' to Glenfeldy's door, sma' mirth was there; Bonnie Jean's mither was tearing her hair; "Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, ye're welcome," said she, "Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, your Jeanie to see."

Pale and wan was she, when Glenlogie gaed ben, But red rosy grew she whene'er he sat down; She turned awa' her head, but the smile was in her e'e, "O binna feared, mither, I'll maybe no dee."

Unknown

LOCHINVAR From "Marmion"

O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best; And, save his good broadsword, he weapon had none, He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.

He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone, He swam the Eske river where ford there was none; But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late; For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all. Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word), "O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?"

"I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied; - Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide, - And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar."

The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up, He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, era her mother could bar, - "Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.

So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume. And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; And the bride-maidens whispered, "'Twere better by far, To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar."

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! "She is won! we are gone! over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.

There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran: There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?

Walter Scott [1771-1832]

JOCK OF HAZELDEAN

"Why weep ye by the tide, ladie? Why weep ye by the tide? I'll wed ye to my youngest son, And ye sall be his bride: And ye sall be his bride, ladie, Sae comely to be seen" - But aye she loot the tears down fa' For Jock of Hazeldean.

"Now let this wilfu' grief be done, And dry that cheek so pale; Young Frank is chief of Errington And lord of Langley-dale; His step is first in peaceful ha', His sword in battle keen" - But aye she loot the tears down fa' For Jock of Hazeldean.

"A chain of gold ye sall not lack, Nor braid to bind your hair, Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk, Nor palfrey fresh and fair; And you the foremost o' them a' Shall ride our forest-queen" - But aye she loot the tears down fa' For Jock of Hazeldean.

The kirk was decked at morning-tide, The tapers glimmered fair; The priest and bridegroom wait the bride, And dame and knight are there: They sought her baith by bower and ha'; The ladie was not seen! She's o'er the Border, and awa' Wi' Jock of Hazeldean.

Walter Scott [1771-1832]

CANDOR October - A Wood

I know what you're going to say," she said, And she stood up, looking uncommonly tall: "You are going to speak of the hectic fall, And say you're sorry the summer's dead, And no other summer was like it, you know, And can I imagine what made it so. Now aren't you, honestly?" "Yes," I said.

"I know what you're going to say," she said: "You are going to ask if I forget That day in June when the woods were wet, And you carried me" - here she drooped her head - "Over the creek; you are going to say, Do I remember that horrid day. Now aren't you, honestly?" "Yes," I said.

"I know what you're going to say," she said: "You are going to say that since that time You have rather tended to run to rhyme, And" - her clear glance fell, and her cheek grew red - "And have I noticed your tone was queer. Why, everybody has seen it here! Now aren't you, honestly?" "Yes," I said.

"I know what you're going to say," I said: "You're going to say you've been much annoyed; And I'm short of tact - you will say, devoid - And I'm clumsy and awkward; and call me Ted; And I bear abuse like a dear old lamb; And you'll have me, anyway, just as I am. Now aren't you, honestly?" "Ye-es," she said.

Henry Cuyler Bunner [1855-1896]

"DO YOU REMEMBER"

Do you remember when you heard My lips breathe love's first faltering word? You do, sweet - don't you? When, having wandered all the day, Linked arm in arm, I dared to say, "You'll love me - won't you?"

And when you blushed and could not speak, I fondly kissed your glowing cheek, Did that affront you? Oh, surely not - your eye expressed No wrath - but said, perhaps in jest, "You'll love me - won't you?"