MY HEID IS LIKE TO REND, WILLIE. MY heid is like to rend, Willie— My heart is like to break; I'm wearin' aff my feet, Willie- O, lay your cheek to mine, Willie, It's vain to comfort me, Willie- I'm sittin' on your knee, Willie, Ay, press your hand upon my heart, O, wae's me for the hour, Willie, O, wae's me for the time, Willie, O, wae's me for the loanin' green That gart me luve thee sae! O, dinna mind my words, Willie— But O, it's hard to live, Willie, And dree a warld's shame! Het tears are hailin' ower your cheek, I'm weary o' this warld, Willie, I canna live as I ha'e lived, Or be as I should be. But fauld unto your heart, Willie, The heart that still is thine, And kiss ance mair the white, white cheek Ye said was red langsyne. A stoun' gaes through my heid, WillieA sair stoun' through my heart; O, haud me up and let me kiss Thy brow ere we twa pairt. Anither, and anither yet!— How fast my life-strings break !--Fareweel! fareweel! through yon kirkyard Step lichtly for my sake! The lav'rock in the lift, Willie, That lilts far ower our heid, Will sing the morn as merrilie But (, remember me, Willie, And O, think on the leal, leal heart, And O, think on the cauld, cauld mools That kiss the cheek and kiss the chin Mrs. Caroline Anne Southey. THE MARINER'S HYMN. LAUNCH thy bark, mariner! Let loose the rudder-bands Good angels lead thee! Tempests will come; Look to the weather-bow, Breakers are round thee; Let fall the plummet now, Hold the helm fast! "What of the night, watchman ? No land yet-all's right!" Be wakeful, be vigilant― At an hour when all seemeth Securest to thee. How! gains the leak so fast? Clear out the holdHoist up thy merchandise, Heave out thy gold ;There-let the ingots goNow the ship rights; Hurra! the harbour's near Lo, the red lights! Slacken not sail yet At inlet or island; Straight for the beacon steer, Straight for the highland; Crowd all thy canvas on, Heaven is thy home! THE PAUPER'S DEATH-BED READ softly-bow the head TREAD In reverent silence bow No passing bell doth toll Yet an immortal soul Is passing now. Stranger! however great, With lowly reverence bow; There's one in that poor shedOne by that paltry bedGreater than thou. Beneath that beggar's roof, Lo! Death does keep his state; Enter-no crowds attend Enter-no guards defend This palace gate. That pavement, damp and cold, One silent woman stands, O change!-O wondrous change!— Burst are the prison bars |