When dead in her true love's arms she fell, He pierced her brother to the heart, Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall: So perish all would true love part, That Love may still be lord of all! And then he took the cross divine, Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall, Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove, : Walter Scott. WHITE CARLISLE YETTS. was the rose in his gay bonnet, As he faulded me in his broached plaidie, His hand whilk clasped the truth luve, His long, long hair in yellow hanks Waved o'er his cheeks sae sweet and ruddie; My father's blood's in that flower-tap, This white rose was steeped in my luve's blood, An' I'll ay wear it in my bosom. When I came first by merry Carlisle, Was ne'er a town sae sweetly seeming; The White Rose flaunted owre the wall, The thristled banners far were streaming! When I came next by merry Carlisle, O sad, sad seemed the town an' eerie! The auld, auld men came out an' wept, "O maiden, come ye to seek yere dearie?" * There's ae drop o' blude atween my breasts, The tane I'll ne'er wash, an' the tither ne'er kame, Wae, wae upon that cruel heart, Wae, wae upon that hand sae bloodie, Which feasts in our richest Scottish blude, An' makes sae mony a doleful widow. Anonymous. Channel, the English. THE ARETHUSA. YOME, all ye jolly sailors bold, COME Whose hearts are cast in honor's mould, Huzza to the Arethusa! She is a frigate tight and brave To their favorite launch, And when the foe shall meet our fire, 'T was with old Keppel she went out, The famed Belle Poule straight ahead did lie, The Arethusa seemed to fly; Not a sheet or a tack, Or a brace did she slack; Though the Frenchman laughed, and thought it stuff; But they knew not the handful of men, how tough, On board of the Arethusa. On deck five hundred men did dance, On board of the Arethusa. Our captain hailed the Frenchman, “Ho!” "Bear down, d'ye see, To our admiral's lee." "No, no," says the Frenchman, "that can't be." "Then I must lug you along with me," Says the saucy Arethusa. The fight was off the Frenchman's land; And since we've driven the foe ashore, To his favorite lass; A health to our captain and officers too, Prince Hoare. Chatsworth. CHATSWORTH. HATSWORTH! thy stately mansion, and the pride Yet he whose heart in childhood gave her troth William Wordsworth. CHER Cherwell, the River. TO THE RIVER CHERWELL, OXFORD. YHERWELL! how pleased along thy willowed hedge Erewhile I strayed, or when the morn began To tinge the distant turret's gleamy fan, Or evening glimmered o'er the sighing sedge! |