The Hundred Best English Poems | Page 7

midnight in the silence of the sleep-time,?When you set your fancies free,?Will they pass to where--by death, fools think, imprisoned-- Low he lies who once so loved you, whom you loved so,
--Pity me?
Oh to love so, be so loved, yet so mistaken!?What had I on earth to do?With the slothful, with the mawkish, the unmanly??Like the aimless, helpless, hopeless, did I drivel
--Being--who?
One who never turned his back but marched breast forward,?Never doubted clouds would break,?Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better,
Sleep to wake.
No, at noonday in the bustle of man's work-time?Greet the unseen with a cheer!?Bid him forward, breast and back as either should be,?"Strive and thrive!" cry "Speed,--fight on, fare ever
There as here!"
1896 Edition.

ROBERT BURNS.
9. The Silver Tassie.
I.
Go, fetch to me a pint o' wine,?And fill it in a silver tassie,?That I may drink before I go?A service to my bonie lassie!?The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith,?Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry,?The ship rides by the Berwick-Law,?And I maun leave my bonie Mary.
II.
The trumpets sound, the banners fly,?The glittering spears are rank��d ready,?The shouts o' war are heard afar,?The battle closes deep and bloody.?It's not the roar o' sea or shore?Wad mak me langer wish to tarry,?Nor shouts o' war that's heard afar:?It's leaving thee, my bonie Mary!
10. Of a' the Airts.
I.
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw?I dearly like the west,?For there the bonie lassie lives,?The lassie I lo'e best.?There wild woods grow, and rivers row,?And monie a hill between,?But day and night my fancy's flight?Is ever wi' my Jean.
II.
I see her in the dewy flowers--?I see her sweet and fair.?I hear her in the tunefu' birds--?I hear her charm the air.?There's not a bonie flower that springs?By fountain, shaw, or green,?There's not a bonie bird that sings,?But minds me o' my Jean.
11. John Anderson my Jo.
I.
John Anderson my jo, John,?When we were first acquent,?Your locks were like the raven,?Your bonie brow was brent;?But now your brow is beld, John,?Your locks are like the snaw,?But blessings on your frosty pow,?John Anderson my jo!
II.
John Anderson my jo, John,?We clamb the hill thegither,?And monie a cantie day, John,?We've had wi' ane anither;?Now we maun totter down, John,?And hand in hand we'll go,?And sleep thegither at the foot,?John Anderson my jo!
12. Ae Fond Kiss.
I.
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!?Ae farewell, and then forever!?Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,?Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.?Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,?While the star of hope she leaves him??Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me,?Dark despair around benights me.
II.
I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy:?Naething could resist my Nancy!?But to see her was to love her,?Love but her, and love for ever.?Had we never lov'd sae kindly,?Had we never lov'd sae blindly,?Never met--or never parted--?We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
III.
Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest!?Fare-thee-weel, thou best and dearest!?Thine be ilka joy and treasure,?Peace, Enjoyment, Love, and Pleasure!?Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!?Ae farewell, alas, for ever!?Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,?Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
13. Ye Flowery Banks.
I.
Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon,?How can ye blume sae fair??How can ye chant, ye little birds,?And I sae fu' o' care?
II.
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird,?That sings upon the bough:?Thou minds me o' the happy days?When my fause Luve was true!
III.
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird,?That sings beside thy mate:?For sae I sat, and sae I sang,?And wist na o' my fate!
IV.
Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon?To see the woodbine twine,?And ilka bird sang o' its luve,?And sae did I o' mine.
V.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose?Frae aff its thorny tree,?And my fause luver staw my rose,?But left the thorn wi' me.
14. A Red, Red Rose.
I.
O, my luve is like a red, red rose,?That's newly sprung in June.?O, my luve is like the melodie,?That's sweetly play'd in tune.
II.
As fair art thou, my bonie lass,?So deep in luve am I,?And I will luve thee still, my dear,?Till a' the seas gang dry.
III.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,?And the rocks melt wi' the sun!?And I will luve thee still, my dear,?While the sands o' life shall run.
IV.
And fare the weel, my only luve,?And fare the weel a while!?And I will come again, my luve,?Tho' it were ten thousand mile!
15. Mary Morison.
I.
O Mary, at thy window be!?It is the wish'd, the trysted hour.?Those smiles and glances let me see,?That make the miser's treasure poor.?How blythely wad I bide the stoure,?A weary slave frae sun to sun,?Could I the rich reward secure--?The lovely Mary Morison!
II.
Yestreen, when to the trembling string?The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha',?To thee my fancy took its wing,?I sat, but neither heard or saw:?Tho' this was fair, and that was braw,?And yon the toast of a' the town,?I sigh'd