I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a foamy flake And draw them all along, and flow For men may come and men may go, I steal by lawns and grassy plots: I move the sweet forget-me-nots I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, I make the netted sunbeams dance I murmur under moon and stars I linger by my shingly bars; And out again I curve and flow --Alfred Tennyson. HAT beauties does Flora disclose! WHA Tweedside. How sweet are her smiles upon Tweed, Yet Mary's, still sweeter than those, Both nature and fancy exceed. The warblers are heard in the grove, The linnet, the lark, and the thrush, The blackbird, and sweet-cooing dove, With music enchant every bush. Come, let us go forth to the mead, Let us see how the primroses spring. We'll lodge in some village on Tweed, And love while the feathered folks sing. How does my love pass the long day? Do they never carelessly stray, While happily she lies asleep? 'Tis she does the virgins excel, No beauty with her may compare: She's fairest where thousands are fair -William Crawford. C The Planting of the Apple Tree. OME, let us plant the apple tree, Wide let its hollow bed be made; And press it o'er them tenderly, As round the sleeping infant's feet What plant we in this apple tree? Boughs where the thrush with crimson breast Shall haunt, and sing, and hide her nest; We plant, upon the sunny lea, A shadow for the noontide hour, What plant we in this apple-tree? What plant we in this apple-tree? While children come with cries of glee, And when, above this apple tree, And guests in prouder homes shall see, The fruitage of this apple tree Shall bear to coasts that lie afar, Each year shall give this apple tree A broader flush of roseate bloom, A deeper maze of verdurous gloom, And loosen, when the frost clouds lower, The crisp brown leaves in thicker shower. The years shall come and pass, but we Shall hear no longer, where we lie, The summer's songs, the autumn's sigh, In the boughs of the apple tree. And time shall waste this apple tree! What shall the tasks of mercy be, "Who planted this old apple tree?" -William Cullen Bryant. The Mountains of Switzerland. THE stranger wandering in the Switzer's land, Before its awful mountain-tops afraidWho yet, with patient toil, has gained his stand On the bare summit where all life is stayedSees far, far down beneath his blood-dimmed eyes, Another country, golden to the shore, Where a new passion and new hopes arise, Where southern blooms unfold forevermore. And I, lone sitting by the twilight blaze, Think of another wanderer in the snows, And on more perilous mountain-tops I gaze Than ever frowned above the vine and rose. Yet courage, soul! nor hold thy strength in vain, In hope o'ercome the steeps God set for thee, For past the Alpine summits of great pain Lieth thine Italy. -Rose Terry Cooke. And truly 't was a gallant thing to see that crowning King, ladies, lovers, all look on, the occasion is divine; show, I'll drop my glove, to prove his love; great glory will be mine." Valor and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below. Robin Hood and Allen-a-Dale. [Of Robin Hood, the famous outlaw of Sherwood Forest, and his merry men, there are many ballads; but the limits of this volume forbid our giving more than a single selection. Various periods, ranging from the time of Richard I to the end of the reign of Edward II., have been assigned as the age in which Robin Hood lived He is usually described as a yeoman, abiding in Sherwood Forest, in Nottinghamshire. His most noted followers, generally mentioned in the ballads, are Little John, Friar Tuck, his chaplain, and his maid Marian. Nearly all the ballads extol his courage, his generosity, his humanity, and his skill as an archer. He robbed the rich only, who could afford to lose, and gave freely to the poor. He protected the needy, was a champion of the fair sex, and took great delight in plundering prelates. The following ballad exhibits the outlaw in one of his most attractive aspects-affording assistance to a distressed lover.] "This is not a fit match," quoth Robin Hood, They shall be three times asked in the church, As the law is of our land." "That you do seem to hear; For since we are come into the church, The bride shall choose her own dear." Then Robin Hood put his horn to his mouth, And when they came into the churchyard, Marching all in a row, The very first man was Allen a-Dale, "This is thy true-love," Robin he said, And you shall be married at this same time, Before we depart away." "That shall not be," the bishop, he cried, "For thy word shall not stand; Robin Hood pulled off the bishop's coat, And put it upon Little John; 'By the faith of my body," then Robin said, "This cloth doth make thee a man." When Little John went into the quire, He asked them seven times in the church And then having ended this merry wedding, And so they returned to the merry greenwood, Amongst the leaves so green. |