"LOUDOUN'S BONNIE WOODS AND BRAES" "LOUDOUN'S bonnie woods and braes,

I maun lea' them a', lassie;
Wha can thole when Britain's faes
Wad gi'e Britons law, lassie?
Wha wad shun the field o' danger?
Wha frae fame wad live a stranger?
Now when freedom bids avenge her,
Wha wad shun her ca', lassie?
Loudoun's bonnie woods and braes
Hae seen our happy bridal days,
And gentle Hope shall soothe thy waes
When I am far awa', lassie."

"Hark! the swelling bugle sings,
Yielding joy to thee, laddie,
But the dolefu' bugle brings

Waefu' thoughts to me, laddie.
Lanely I maun climb the mountain,
Lanely stray beside the fountain,
Still the weary moments countin',
Far frae love and thee, laddie.
O'er the gory fields of war,

When Vengeance drives his crimson car,
Thou'lt maybe fa', frae me afar,

And nane to close thy e'e, laddie."

"O! resume thy wonted smile!
O! suppress thy fears, lassie!
Glorious honor crowns the toil

That the soldier shares, lassie;
Heaven will shield thy faithful lover
Till the vengeful strife is over;
Then we'll meet nae mair to sever;

Till the day we dee, lassie.

'Midst our bonnie woods and braes

We'll spend our peaceful, happy days,

As blithe's yon lightsome lamb that plays

On Loudoun's flowery lea, lassie."

Robert Tannahill [1774-1810]

"FARE THEE WELL"

FARE thee well! and if for ever,

Still for ever, fare thee well: Even though unforgiving, never

'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel.

Would that breast were bared before thee
Where thy head so oft hath lain,
While that placid sleep came o'er thee
Which thou ne'er canst know again:

Would that breast, by thee glanced over,
Every inmost thought could show!
Then thou wouldst at last discover
'Twas not well to spurn it so.

Though the world for this commend thee,—
Though it smile upon the blow,
Even its praises must offend thee,
Founded on another's woe:

Though my many faults defaced me,
Could no other arm be found
Than the one which once embraced me,
To inflict a cureless wound?

Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not;
Love may sink by slow decay,
But by sudden wrench, believe not
Hearts can thus be torn away:

Still thine own its life retaineth;

Still must mine, though bleeding, beat; And the undying thought which paineth Is-that we no more may meet.

These are words of deeper sorrow

Than the wail above the dead; Both shall live, but every morrow

Wake us from a widowed bed.

"Maid of Athens, Ere We Part"

And when thou wouldst solace gather,

When our child's first accents flow, Wilt thou teach her to say "Father!" Though his care she must forego?

When her little hands shall press thee,
When her lip to thine is pressed,

Think of him whose prayer shall bless thee,
Think of him thy love had blessed!

Should her lineaments resemble

Those thou nevermore may'st see, Then thy heart will softly tremble With a pulse yet true to me.

All my faults perchance thou knowest,
All my madness none can know;
All my hopes, where'er thou goest,
Whither, yet with thee they go.

Every feeling hath been shaken;
Pride, which not a world could bow,
Bows to thee, by thee forsaken,
Even my soul forsakes me now:

But 'tis done,-all words are idle,-
Words from me are vainer still;
But the thoughts we cannot bridle
Force their way without the will.

Fare thee well!-thus disunited,

Torn from every nearer tie,

Seared in heart, and lone, and blighted,

More than this I scarce can die.

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George Gordon Byron [1788-1824]

"MAID OF ATHENS, ERE WE PART"

MAID of Athens, cre we part,

Give, oh, give me back my heart!

Or, since that has left my breast,
Keep it now, and take the rest!
Hear my vow before I go,
Ζώη μοῦ, σᾶς ἀγαπῶ.

By those tresses unconfined,
Wooed by each gean wind;
By those lids whose jetty fringe
Kiss thy soft cheeks' blooming tinge;
By those wild eyes like the roe,
Ζώη μοῦ, σᾶς ἀγαπῶ.

By that lip I long to taste;
By that zone-encircled waist;

By all the token-flowers that tell
What words can never speak so well;

By love's alternate joy and woe,
Ζώη μοῦ, σᾶς ἀγαπῶ.

Maid of Athens! I am gone:
Think of me, sweet! when alone.
Though I fly to Istambol,

Athens holds my heart and soul:
Can I cease to love thee? No!

Ζώη μοῦ, σᾶς ἀγαπῶ.

George Gordon Byron [1788–1824]

"WHEN WE TWO PARTED"

WHEN We two parted
In silence and tears,

Half broken-hearted,

To sever for years,

Pale grew thy cheek and cold,

Colder thy kiss;

Truly that hour foretold

Sorrow to this!

The dew of the morning

Sunk chill on my brow;
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.

"GO, FORGET ME"

Go, forget me! Why should sorrow
O'er that brow a shadow fling?
Go, forget me,-and to-morrow

Brightly smile and sweetly sing.
Smile-though I shall not be near thee.
Sing-though I shall never hear thee.
May thy soul with pleasure shine,
Lasting as the gloom of mine.

Like the sun, thy presence glowing

Clothes the meanest things in light;
And when thou, like him, art going,

Loveliest objects fade in night.
All things looked so bright about thee,
That they nothing seem without thee;