THE WILLOW-TREE

K

NOW ye the willow-tree
Whose grey leaves quiver,
Whispering gloomily

To yon pale river ?
Lady, at eventide

Wander not near it :
They say its branches hide
A sad, lost spirit!

Once to the willow-tree
A maid came fearful;
Pale seemed her cheek to be,

Her blue eye tearful.
Soon as she saw the tree,

Her step moved fleeter ;

No one was there-ah me!
No one to meet her!

Quick beat her heart to hear

The far bells' chime
Toll from the chapel-tower

The trysting time:

But the red sun went down

In golden flame,

And though she looked round,
Yet no one came !

Presently came the night,

Sadly to greet her, Moon in her silver light,

Stars in their glitter; Then sank the moon away Under the billow,

Still wept the maid alone—

There by the willow!

Through the long darkness,

By the stream rolling,
Hour after hour went on

Tolling and tolling.
Long was the darkness,

Lonely and stilly;

Shrill came the night-wind,

Piercing and chilly.

Shrill blew the morning breeze,

Biting and cold,

Bleak peers the grey dawn

Over the wold.

Bleak over moor and stream

Looks the grey dawn,

Grey, with dishevelled hair,

Still stands the willow there

THE MAID IS GONE!

Domine, Domine !

Sing we a litany,

Sing for poor maiden-hearts broken and weary; Domine, Domine!

Sing we a litany,

Wail we and weep we a wild Miserere!

Father, in easy chair,

Gloomily napping, When at the window-sill Came a light tapping!

And a pale countenance

Looked through the casement, Loud beat the mother's heart, Sick with amazement, And at the vision which Came to surprise her, Shrieked in an agony"Lor! it's Elizar!"

VI.

Yes, 'twas Elizabeth-
Yes, 'twas their girl;
Pale was her cheek, and her
Hair out of curl.
"Mother!" the loving one,
Blushing, exclaimed,
"Let not your innocent
Lizzy be blamed.

VII.

"Yesterday, going to Aunt Jones's to tea,

Mother, dear mother, I

Forgot the door-key! And as the night was cold,

And the way steep, Mrs. Jones kept me to Breakfast and sleep."

VIII.

Whether her Pa and Ma

Fully believed her,
That we shall never know,

Stern they received her;

And for the work of that

Cruel, though short, night,
Sent her to bed without
Tea for a fortnight.

IX.

MORAL

Hey diddle diddlety,
Cat and the Fiddlety,

Maidens of England, take caution by she!
Let love and suicide

Never tempt you aside,

And always remember to take the door-key.