Now the rite is duly done,
Now the word is spoken,
And the spell has made us one
Which may ne’er be broken;
Rest we, dearest, in our home,
Roam we o’er the heather:
We shall rest, and we shall roam,
Shall we not? together.
From this hour the summer rose
Sweeter breathes to charm us;
From this hour the...
O, My love ’s like the steadfast sun,
Or streams that deepen as they run;
Nor hoary hairs, nor forty years,
Nor moments between sighs and tears,
Nor nights of thought, nor days of pain,
Nor dreams of glory dreamed in vain,
Nor mirth, nor sweetest song that flows
To sober joys and soften woes,
Can make my heart or fancy flee,...
Thou hast sworn by thy God, my Jeanie,
By that pretty white hand o’ thine,
And by a’ the lowing stars in heaven,
That thou wad aye be mine!
And I hae sworn by my God, my Jeanie,
And by that kind heart o’ thine,
By a’ the stars sown thick owre heaven,
That thou shalt aye be mine!
Then foul fa’ the hands that wad loose sic...
“it was our wedding-day
A month ago,” dear heart, I hear you say.
If months, or years, or ages since have passed,
I know not: I have ceased to question Time.
I only know that once there pealed a chime
Of joyous bells, and then I held you fast,
And all stood back, and none my right denied,
And forth we walked: the world was free and wide...
I Wadna gi’e my ain wife
For ony wife I see;
I wadna gi’e my ain wife
For ony wife I see;
A bonnier yet I ’ve never seen,
A better canna be—
I wadna gi’e my ain wife
For ony wife I see!
O couthie is my ingle-cheek,
An’ cheerie is my Jean;
I never see her angry look,
Nor hear her word on ane....
She is a winsome wee thing,
She is a handsome wee thing,
She is a bonnie wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o’ mine.
I never saw a fairer,
I never lo’ed a dearer,
And neist my heart I ’ll wear her,
For fear my jewel tine.
She is a winsome wee thing,
She is a handsome wee thing,
She is a bonnie wee thing,
...
How many summers, love,
Have I been thine?
How many days, thou dove,
Hast thou been mine?
Time, like the wingèd wind
When ’t bends the flowers,
Hath left no mark behind,
To count the hours!
Some weight of thought, though loath,
On thee he leaves;
Some lines of care round both
Perhaps he weaves...
The Day returns, my bosom burns;
The blissful day we twa did meet;
Though winter wild in tempest toiled,
Ne’er summer sun was half sae sweet.
Than a’ the pride that loads the tide,
And crosses o’er the sultry line,—
Than kingly robes, and crowns and globes,
Heaven gave me more; it made thee mine.
While day and night can...
She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment’s ornament;
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;
Like Twilight’s, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful dawn;
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and...
A Poet loved a Star,
And to it whispered nightly,
“Being so fair, why art thou, love, so far?
Or why so coldly shine, who shin’st so brightly?
O Beauty wooed and unpossest!
O, might I to this beating breast
But clasp thee once and then die blest!”
That Star her Poet’s love,
So wildly warm, made human;
And leaving, for...
