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Whose light no jealous clouds obscure,
While each of us shine innocent;
The troubled stream is still impure;
With virtue flies away content.

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And though opinions often err,

We'll court the modest smile of fame,
For sin's black danger circles her
Who hath infection in her name.

Thus when to one dark silent room
Death shall our loving coffins thrust,
Fame will build columns on our tomb,
And add a perfume to our dust.

William Habington.






Thou art returned, great light, to that blest hour
In which I first by marriage, sacred power,
Joined with Castara hearts: and as the same
Thy lustre is, as then, so is our flame;
Which had increased, but that by love's decree
'Twas such at first, it ne'er could greater be.
But tell me, glorious lamp, in thy survey
Of things below thee, what did not decay
By age to weakness? I since that have seen
The rose bud forth and fade, the tree grow green
And wither, and the beauty of the field
With winter wrinkled. Even thyself dost yield
Something to time, and to thy grave fall nigher;
But virtuous love is one sweet endless fire.

William Habington.





My once dear Love! hapless that I no more
Must call thee so-the rich affection's store
That fed our hopes, lies now exhaust and spent,
Like sums of treasure unto bankrupts lent.
We, that did nothing study but the way

To love each other, with which thoughts the day
Rose with delight to us, and with them set,
Must learn the hateful art, how to forget.

We, that did nothing wish that Heaven could give,
Beyond ourselves, nor did desire to live
Beyond that wish, all these now cancel must,
As if not writ in faith, but words and dust.
Yet witness those clear vows which lovers make,
Witness the chaste desires that never brake
Into unruly heats; witness that breast,
Which in thy bosom anchored his whole rest,
'Tis no default in us, I dare acquit

Thy maiden faith, thy purpose fair and white
As thy pure self. Cross planets did envy
Us to each other, and Heaven did untie





Faster than vows could bind. Oh that the stars,
When lovers meet, should stand opposed in wars!
Since then some higher destinies command,
Let us not strive, nor labour to withstand
What is past help. The longest date of grief
Can never yield a hope of our relief;


And though we waste ourselves in moist laments,
Tears may drown us, but not our discontents.

Fold back our arms; take home our fruitless loves,

That must new fortunes try, like turtle doves
Dislodged from their haunts. We must in tears
Unwind a love knit up in many years.



In this last kiss I here surrender thee
Back to thyself,—so thou again art free;
Thou in another, sad as that, resend

The truest heart that lover e'er did lend.
Now turn from each. So fare our severed hearts,
As the divorced soul from her body parts.


Henry King.


O waly, waly up the bank,

And waly, waly down the brae,
And waly, waly yon burn-side,

Where I and my Love wont to gae.
I leaned my back unto an aik,

I thought it was a trusty tree;
But first it bowed, and syne it brak',
Sae my true Love did lichtly me.

O waly, waly, but love be bonnie,
A little time while it is new,
But when 'tis auld, it waxeth cauld,

And fades away like morning dew.
Oh! wherefore should I busk my head,
Or wherefore should I kame my hair?

For my true Love has me forsook,
And says he'll never love me mair.

Now Arthur-Seat shall be my bed,

The sheets shall ne'er be prest by me,
Saint Anton's well shall be my drink,

Since my true Love's forsaken me.
Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw,
And shake the green leaves off the tree?
O gentle Death! when wilt thou come?
For of my life I am wearie.

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'Tis not the frost that freezes fell,

Nor blawing snaw's inclemency;


'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry,

But my Love's heart grown cauld to me. When we came in by Glasgow town,

We were a comely sight to see;
My Love was clad in the black velvet,
And I mysel' in cramasie.


But had I wist, before I kissed,

That love had been sae ill to win,

I'd locked my heart in a case of gowd,
And pinned it with a siller pin.


And oh! if my young babe were born,

And set upon the nurse's knee,

And I mysel' were dead and gane,

With the green grass growing over me!


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When in my arms burd Helen dropt,

And died to succour me!

Oh think na but my heart was sair,

When my Love dropt down and spak nae mair!
I laid her down wi' meikle care

On fair Kirconnell lea.


As I went down the water-side,
None but my foe to be my guide,
None but my foe to be my guide,

On fair Kirconnell lea;

I lighted down my sword to draw,
I hacked him in pieces sma',
I hacked him in pieces sma',

For her sake that died for me.

O Helen fair, beyond compare!
I'll make a garland of thy hair
Shall bind my heart for evermair

Until the day I die.

Oh that I were where Helen lies!
Night and day on me she cries;
Out of my bed she bids me rise,
Says, 'Haste and come to me!'




O Helen fair! O Helen chaste!

If I were with thee, I were blest,


Where thou lies low and takes thy rest
On fair Kirconnell lea.

I wish my grave were growing green,

A winding-sheet drawn ower my een,
And I in Helen's arms lying,


On fair Kirconnell lea.

I wish I were where Helen lies:
Night and day on me she cries;
And I am weary of the skies,

Since my Love died for me.



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