e rose, she caught me round the waist,
She said, 'Come down with me, fair maid.'

e led me to her crystal grot,

She set me in her coral chair,

e waved her hand, and I had not Or azure eyes or golden hair.

er locks of jet, her eyes of flame

Were mine, and hers my semblance fair;

O make me, Nix, again the same,
O give me back my golden hair!'

ne smiles in scorn, she disappears,
And here I sit and see no sun,
y eyes of fire are quenched in tears,
And all my darksome locks undone.

R. Garnett

XCIX

THE SEVEN SISTERS;

R, THE SOLITUDE OF BINNORIE

I

Seven daughters had Lord Archibald,

All children of one mother:

You could not say in one short day
What love they bore each other.
A garland, of seven lilies wrought!
Seven sisters that together dwell;
But he, bold knight as ever fought,
Their father, took of them no thought,
He loved the wars so well.

Sing mournfully, oh ! mournfully,
The solitude of Binnorie!

2

Fresh blows the wind, a western wind,
And from the shores of Erin,

Across the wave, a rover brave

To Binnorie is steering:

Right onward to the Scottish strand

The gallant ship is borne ;

The warriors leap upon the land,

And hark! the leader of the band
Hath blown his bugle horn.
Sing mournfully, oh! mournfully,
The solitude of Binnorie!

3

Beside a grotto of their own,
With boughs above them closing,
The seven are laid, and in the shade
They lie like fawns reposing.
But now upstarting with affright
At noise of man and steed,
Away they fly, to left, to right-
Of your fair household, father-knight,
Methinks you take small heed!
Sing mournfully, oh! mournfully,
The solitude of Binnorie!

4

Away the seven fair Campbells fly;

And, over hill and hollow,

With menace proud, and insult loud,

The youthful rovers follow.

Cried they, 'Your father loves to roam : Enough for him to find

The empty house when he comes home;

or us your yellow ringlets comb, or us be fair and kind!'

ing mournfully, oh! mournfully, he solitude of Binnorie!

5

ome close behind, some side by side, Like clouds in stormy weather,

'hey run and cry, ‘Nay let us die, nd let us die together.'

lake was near; the shore was steep; There foot had never been;

They ran, and with a desperate leap
Together plunged into the deep,
Nor ever more were seen.

Sing mournfully, oh ! mournfully,
The solitude of Binnorie!

6

The stream that flows out of the lake,
As through the glen it rambles,
Repeats a moan o'er moss and stone
For those seven lovely Campbells.
Seven little islands, green and bare,
Have risen from out the deep :
The fishers say those sisters fair
By fairies are all buried there,
And there together sleep.
Sing mournfully, oh! mournfully,
The solitude of Binnorie!

W. Wordsworth

e eager pack, from couples freed,

Dash through the bush, the brier, the brake; hile answering hound, and horn, and steed,

The mountain echoes startling wake.

e beams of God's own hallow'd day Had painted yonder spire with gold, d calling sinful man to pray,

Loud, long, and deep the bell had tolled.

t still the Wildgrave onward rides ;
Halloo, halloo! and, hark again!
hen spurring from opposing sides,
Two stranger horsemen join the train.

ho was each stranger, left and right,
Well may I guess but dare not tell;
Le right-hand steed was silver white,
The left, the swarthy hue of hell.

e right-hand horseman, young and fair, His smile was like the morn of May; ■e left, from eye of tawny glare, Shot midnight lightning's lurid ray.

e waved his huntsman's cap on high,
Cried, 'Welcome, welcome, noble lord!
hat sport can earth, or sea, or sky,
To match the princely chase afford?'

Cease thy loud bugle's clanging knell,'
Cried the fair youth with silver voice;
And for devotion's choral swell,
Exchange this rude unhallow'd noise;