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And pause and pray,

And think how little worth,

Is all that frets our hearts on earth.

The sun had sunk, and the summer skies
Were dotted with specks of light,
That melted soon, in the deep moon-rise,
That flowed over Croton Height.

For the Evening, in her robe of white,

Smiled o'er sea and land, with pensive eyes,
Saddening the heart, like the first fair night.
After a loved one dies.

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To the lords of convention 'twas Claver'se who spoke,
"Ere the king's crown shall fall there are crowns to be broke;
So let each cavalier who loves honor and me
Come follow the bonnet of Bonny -Dundee.

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,
Come saddle your horses, and call up your men;
Come open the West Port and let me gang free,
And it's room for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee."

Dundee he is mounted, he rides up the street,

The bells are rung backward, the drums they are beat;
But the provost, douce man, said, "Just e'en let him be,
The gude town is weel quit of the deil of Dundee."

With sour featured whigs the Grassmarket was crammed,
As if half the west had set tryst to be hanged;

There was spite in each look, there was fear in each ee,
As they watched for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee.

These cowls of Kilmarnock had spits and had spears,
And lang hafted gullies to kill cavaliers;

And they shrunk to close heads, and the causeway was free,
At the toss of the bonnet of Bonny Dundee.

"Away to the hills, to the caves, to the rocks-
Ere I own an usurper, I'll couch with the fox;
And tremble, false whigs, in the midst of your glee;
You have not seen the last of my bonnets and me."

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BORDER BALLAD.

BY SIR WALTER SCOTT.

March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale,

Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order?
March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale

All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the border.
Many a banner spread

Flutters above your head,

Many a crest that is famous in story.

Mount and make ready then,

Sons of the mountain glen,

Fight for the queen and our old Scottish glory.

Come from the hills where your hirsels are grazing,
Come from the glen of the buck and the roe;

Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing,
Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow.
Trumpets are sounding,

War steeds are bounding;

Stand to your arms, then, and march in good order,
England shall many a day

Tell of the bloody fray,

When the Blue Bonnets came over the Border.

TO THE DANDELION.

BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

This poem, like Bryant's "Waterfowl," like many of Longfellow's, speaks of the objects of nature in a reflective, almost religious tone, portraying the love of our American poets for "these living pages of God's book."

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Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way,

Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold,

First pledge of blithesome May, Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold,

High hearted buccaneers,

o'erjoyed that they

An El Dorado in the grass have

found,

Which not the rich earth's ample

round

May match in wealth, thou art
more dear to me

Than all the prouder summer
blooms may be.

Gold such as thine ne'er drew the
Spanish prow

Through the primeval hush of
Indian seas,

Nor wrinkled the lean brow

Of age to rob the lover's heart
of ease;

Tis the spring's largess, which she scatters now
To rich and poor alike, with lavish hand,
Though most hearts never understand
To take it at God's value, but pass by
The offered wealth with unrewarded eye,

Thou art my tropics and mine Italy;

To look at thee unlocks a warmer clime; The eyes thou givest

Are in the heart, and heed not space or time.

Not in mid-June the gold cuirassed bee

Feels a more summerlike warm ravishment
In the white lily's breezy tent,

His fragrant Sybaris, than I, when first
From the dark green thy yellow circles burst.

How like a prodigal doth nature seem,

When thou, for all thy gold, so common art! Thou teachest me to deem

More sacredly of every human heart,

Since each reflects in joy its scanty gleam

Of heaven, and could some wondrous secret show,

Did we but pay the love we owe.

And with a child's undoubting wisdom look,
On all these pages of God's book.

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