He whistled, whistled, whistled sadly,
Whistled, whistled, all the day;
But though he whistled, whistled madly,
Could not whistle care away.

3 Fair Susan's glance was kind and bright,
She own'd her love, that buxom maid;
Young Tom was crazy with delight,

He stammer'd, blush'd, but nought he said.
He whistled, whistled, whistled gaily,
His joy by whistling he would tell,
And while he whistled, whistled daily,
The knowing beasts rejoiced as well.

187.

I WHEN time was entwining the garland of years,
Which to crown my beloved was given;
Though some of the leaves might be sullied with tears,
Yet the flow'rs were all gather'd in heaven.

2 And long may this garland be sweet to the eye,
May its verdure for ever be new ;

Young love shall enrich it with many a sigh,
And pity shall nurse it with dew.

188.

I OH! Willie, is it you, dear, safe, safe at home? They did not tell me true, dear, they said you would not come ;

I heard you at the gate, and it made my heart rejoice, For I knew that welcome footstep and that dear familiar voice,

Making music on my ear in the lonely midnight gloom : Oh, Willie, we have miss'd you-welcome, welcome home.

2 We've long'd to see you nightly, but this night of all, The fire was blazing brightly, and lights were in the

hall;

The little ones were up till 'twas ten o'clock and past, Then their eyes began to twinkle, and they've gone to sleep at last;

But they listen'd for your voice till they thought you'd

never come :

Oh! Willie, we have miss'd you-welcome, welcome home.

3. The days were sad without you, the nights long and

drear,

My dreams have been about you, oh, welcome, Willie

dear.

Last night I wept and watch'd, by the moonlight's cheerless ray,

Till I thought I heard your footstep, when I wiped my tears away;

But my heart grew sad again, when I found you had

not come :

Oh, Willie, we have miss'd you-welcome, welcome home.

189.

I COME to the sunset tree,

The day is past and gone-
The woodman's axe lies free,
And the reaper's work is done.

2 The twilight star to heaven,
And the summer dew to flowers,
And rest to us, is given

By the soft, cool ev'ning hours.

3 Sweet is the hour of rest!

Pleasant the wind's low sigh,
And the gleaming of the west,

And the turf whereon we lie

4 When the burden and the heat
Of labour's task is o'er,
And kindly voices greet

The tired one at the door.

5 Yes, tuneful is the sound

That dwells in whisp'ring boughs;
Welcome the freshness round,

And the gale that fans our brows.

6 But rest more sweet and still
Than nightfall ever gave,
Our yearning hearts shall fill
In the world beyond the grave.

190.

I WHEN is a man less than a man?

When he leads or drives his friends

To danger for his selfish ends,
And leaves them in the evil day,
To stand or fall as best they may;
Then is a man less than a man !-

Then we pity him all we can.

2 When is a man less than a man?
When he makes a vow he fails to keep;
When, without sowing, he would reap.
When he would borrow, beg, or steal,
Sooner than work for an honest meal-
Then is a man less than a man !—

Then we pity him all we can.

3 When is a man less than a man?
When by misfortune stricken down,
He whines and maudles through the town,
But never lifts his strong right arm
To save himself from further harm-
Then is a man less that a man !-

Then we pity him all we can.
4 When is a man less than a man?
When he acts a coward's part,
When he betrays a woman's heart,
And scorns, ill-uses, and deceives
The love that lingers and believes-
Then is a man less than a man!-

Then we pity him all we can.

191.

IYE who have scorn'd each other,
Or injured friend or brother,
In this fast-fading year;

Ye who, by word or deed,
Have made a kind heart bleed,
Come, gather here.

Let sinn'd against and sinning
Forget their strife's beginning,
And join in friendship now;
Be links no longer broken,
Be sweet forgiveness spoken
Under the holly-bough.

I

2 Ye who have loved each other,
Sister and friend and brother,.
In this fast-fading year;
Mother and sire and child,
Young man and maiden mild,
Come, gather here;

And let your hearts grow fonder,
As memory shall ponder

Each past unbroken vow?
Old loves and younger wooing
Are sweet in the renewing
Under the holly-bough.

3 Ye who have nourish'd sadness,
Estranged from hope and gladness,
In this fast-fading year;
Ye with o'erburden'd mind,
Made aliens from your kind,
Come, gather here.
Let not the useless sorrow
Pursue you night and morrow;
If e'er you hope, hope now-
Take heart, uncloud your faces,
And join in our embraces
Under the holly-bough.

A

192.

FAMOUS man was Robin Hood,
The English ballad-singer's joy:
But Scotland has a chief as good,
She has, she has her bold Rob Roy.

2 A dauntless heart Macgregor shows,

And wondrous length and strength of arm; He long had quell'd his highland foes, And kept, and kept his friends from harm.

3 This daring mood protects him still, For this the robber's simple plan,

That they should take who have the will, And they, and they should keep who can.

4 And while Rob Roy is free to rove,

In summer's heat and winter's snow,

The eagle he is lord above,

And Rob, and Rob is lord below.

A famous man, &c.