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THE SUN SHINES FAIR ON CARLISLE WALL.

HE leaned her head against a thorn,

And there she has her young babe born,
And the lyon shall be lord of a'.

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'Smile no sae sweet, my bonnie babe,
The sun shines fair on Carlisle wa';
An ye smile sae sweet ye'll smile me dead,"
And the lyon shall be lord of a'.

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She's howket a grave by the light o' the moon,

The sun shines fair on Carlisle wa';

And there she's buried her sweet babe in,
And the lyon shall be lord of a'.

As she was going to the church,
The sun shines fair on Carlisle wa';
She saw a sweet babe in the porch,
And the lyon shall be lord of a'.

"O bonnie babe, an ye were mine,

The sun shines fair on Carlisle wa'; I'd clead you in silk and sabelline,"

And the lyon shall be lord of a'."

"O mother mine, when I was thine,
The sun shines fair on Carlisle wa';
To me ye were na half sae kind,
And the lyon shall be lord of a'.

"But now I'm in the heavens hie,

The sun shines fair on Carlisle wa'; And ye have the pains of hell to dree And the lyon shall be lord of a'.

دو

Anonymous.

IT

LOVE SHALL BE LORD OF ALL.

was an English ladye bright,

The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall, And she would marry a Scottish knight, For Love will still be lord of all.

Blithely they saw the rising sun,

When he shone fair on Carlisle wall, But they were sad ere day was done, Though Love was still the lord of all.

Her sire gave brooch and jewel fine,

Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall;
Her brother gave but a flask of wine,
For ire that Love was lord of all.

For she had lands, both meadow and lea,
Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,
And he swore her death, ere he would see
A Scottish knight the lord of all.

That wine she had not tasted well,
The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,

When dead in her true love's arms she fell,
For Love was still the lord of all.

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,
And died for her sake in Palestine;
So Love was still the lord of all.

Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove,
The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,
Pray for their souls who died for love,
For Love shall still be lord of all!

Walter Scott.

WHITE

CARLISLE YETTS.

TE was the rose in his gay bonnet,
As he faulded me in his broached plaidie,

His hand whilk clasped the truth luve,

O it was ay in battle ready!

His long, long hair in yellow hanks

Waved o'er his cheeks sae sweet and ruddie; But now they wave o'er Carlisle yetts In dripping ringlets clotting bloodie.

My father's blood's in that flower-tap,
My brother's in that hare-bell's blossom,

This white rose was steeped in my luve's blood, An' I'll ay wear it in my bosom.

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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,
An' twa in my links o' hair sae yellow;
The tane I'll ne'er wash, an' the tither ne'er kame,
But I'll sit an' pray aneath the willow.
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.

OME, all ye jolly sailors bold,

COME

Whose hearts are cast in honor's mould,
While English glory I unfold, -

Huzza to the Arethusa!

She is a frigate tight and brave
As ever stemmed the dashing wave:
Her men are stanch

To their favorite launch,

And when the foe shall meet our fire,
Sooner than strike, we'll all expire,
On board of the Arethusa.

'T was with old Keppel she went out,
The English Channel to cruise about,
When four French sail, in show so stout,
Bore down on the Arethusa.

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.

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