Puslapio vaizdai
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WILLIAM MOTHERWELL.

1797-1834.

[WILLIAM MOTHERWELL, born in Glasgow in 1797, became a "limb of the law" in 1819, being then appointed to the office of Sheriff Clerk Depute at Paisley. In 1828 he put his literary talent at the service of his party, edited a Tory newspaper, The Paisley Advertiser, and afterwards The Glasgow Courier. The strain of journalism proved too much for him, and he died of apoplexy at the early age of thirty-seven. A small volume of poems, narrative and lyrical, published in 1832, was the only fruit of his fine poetic gifts.]

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And his pale brow and paler cheek,

Heigho! the wind and rain; The white moonshine did fall so meek, Ah! well-a-day! sad strain.

They lifted up the True and Brave,

Heigho! the wind and rain;
And bore him to his lone cold grave,
Ah! well-a-day! in pain.

They buried him on that far strand,
Heigho! the wind and rain;

His face turned towards his love's own land,

Ah, well-a-day! how vain.

The wearied heart was laid at rest,
Heigho! the wind and rain;
The dream of her he liked best,
Ah, well-a-day! again.

They nothing said, but many a tear,
Heigho! the wind and rain;
Rained down on that knight's lowly
bier,

Ah, well-a-day! amain.

They nothing said, but many a sigh,

Heigho! the wind and rain; Told how they wished like him to die, Ah, well-a-day! sans stain.

With solemn mass and orison,

Heigho! the wind and rain;
They reared to him a cross of stone,
Ah, well-a-day! in pain.

And on it graved with daggers bright,
Heigho! the wind and rain;
"Here lies a true and gentle knight."
Ah, well-a-day! Amen!

JEANIE MORRISON.

I'VE wandered east, I've wandered west,
Through mony a weary way;
But never, never can forget

The love o' life's young day!
The fire that's blawn on Beltane e'en
May weel be black gin Yule;
But blacker fa' awaits the heart

Where first fond luve grows cule.

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[BORN at Dublin, early attained some distinction as a painter, poet, and singer. His earliest work, except contributions to journals, was Legends and Songs of Ireland. His Rory O'Moore (1837), Handy Andy (1842), and Treasure Trove (1844), comic Irish tales, widely extended his fame. Songs and Ballads (1839), Lyrics of Ireland (1858), Metrical Tales (1859), and several successful dramatic works, were written by him. He also gave public exhibitions and lectures in Great Britain, Ireland, and America with much success. Died July 6, 1868.]

THE FOUR-LEAVED SHAMROCK.

I'LL seek a four-leaved shamrock
In all the fairy dells,

And if I find the charmed leaf,

Oh, how I'll weave my spells!

I would not waste my magic might
On diamond, pearl, or gold,
For treasure tires the weary sense-
Such triumph is but cold;

But I will play the enchanter's

part

In casting bliss around;
Oh! not a tear, nor aching heart,
Should in the world be found.

To worth I would give honor,
I'd dry the mourner's tears,
And to the pallid lip recall

The smile of happier years;

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