She leapt down the rocks With her rainbow locks Streaming among the streams; Her steps paved with green The downward ravine, Which slopes to the western gleams: And gliding and springing She went, ever singing In murmurs as soft as sleep; The Earth seemed to love her, And Heaven smiled above her, As she lingered towards the deep. Then Alpheus bold, On his glacier cold, With his trident the mountains strook And opened a chasm In the rocks; with the spasm All Erymanthus shook. And the black south wind It concealed behind The urns of the silent snow, And earthquake and thunder Did rend in sunder Of the fleet nymph's flight To the brink of the Dorian deep. "O, save me! O, guide me, For he grasps me now by the hair! The loud Ocean heard, And divided at her prayer; 35 And under the water The Earth's white daughter Fled like a sunny beam; Behind her descended Her billows unblended On the emerald main, Alpheus rushed behind, As an eagle pursuing A dove to its ruin Down the streams of the cloudy wind. Under the bowers Where the Ocean Powers Sit on their pearlèd thrones,- Which amid the streams Where the shadowy waves Are as green as the forest's night: Outspeeding the shark, And the sword-fish dark, Under the ocean-foam, And up through the rifts In Enna's mountains, Down one vale where the morning basks, Like friends once parted, Grown single-hearted, They ply their watery tasks. At sunrise they leap From their cradles steep In the azure sky, When they love, but live no more. THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT.- Burns. INSCRIBED TO ROBERT AIKEN, ESQ. My loved, my honored, much respected friend! To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, The lowly train in life's sequestered scene; The native feelings strong, the guileless ways; What Aiken in a cottage would have been; Ah! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there, I ween! November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh; The toil-worn cotter frae his labor goes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary o'er the moor his course does homeward bend. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin', stacher thro' His clean hearth-stane, his thriftie wifie's smile, The lisping infant prattling on his knee, Does all his weary, karking care beguile, An' makes him quite forget his labor an' his toil. Belyve, the elder bairns come drapping in, Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown, To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be. With joy unfeigned, brothers and sisters meet, An' each for other's welfare kindly spiers: The social hours, swift-winged, unnoticed fleet; Each tells the unco's that he sees or hears; The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years; Anticipation forward points the view. The mother, wi' her needle an' her shears, Gars auld claes look amaist as weel 's the new; The father nixes a' wi' admonition due. Their master's an' their mistress's command And mind your duty, duly, morn and night! But, hark! a rap comes gently to the door; To do some errands, and convoy her hame. Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush ner cheek; With heart-struck, anxious care inquires his name, While Jenny hafflins is afraid to speak; Weel pleased the mother hears, it 's nae wild, worthless rake. Wi' kindly welcome Jenny brings him ben; A strappan youth; he takes the mother's eye; Blythe Jenny sees the visit 's no ill-ta'en; The father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye. The youngster's artless heart o'erflows with joy, But blate and laithfu', scarce can weel behave; The mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy What makes the youth sae bashfu' and sae grave; Weel pleased to think her bairn 's respected like the lave. O happy love, where love like this is found! |