Prevailing, gaining
the advantage.
Wrath, anger.
Wailing, weeping.

Dismayed, terrified.

Aid, help.

Vain, useless.

Lamenting, mourning loudly.

I'll meet the raging of the skies,

But not an angry father."

The boat has left a stormy land,

A stormy sea before her

When, oh! too strong for human hand,
The tempest gathered o'er her.

*

40

For sore dismayed* through storm and shade, 45
His child he did discover:

One lovely hand she stretched for aid,*

And one was round her lover.

"Come back! come back!" he cried in grief, "Across this stormy water;

And I'll forgive your Highland chief;

My daughter!-oh! my daughter!

50

"Twas vain the loud waves lashed the shore, Return or aid preventing;

The waters wild went o'er his child,

And he was left lamenting.*

55

TO A FIELD MOUSE.-Burns.

ROBERT BURNS (1759-1796), the great lyric poet of Scotland, was the son of a small farmer in Ayrshire. He owed little or nothing to education, and, in his genius, followed the impulse of nature alone. Chief poems: Hallowe'en, The Cottar's Saturday Night, Tam o' Shanter, and a magnificent collection of songs.

5

IO

15

20

25

30

35

WEE,* sleekit,* cow'rin',* tim'rous beastie,*
O what a panic's in thy breastie !
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,

Wi' bickering brattle ! *

I wad be laith* to rin and chase thee
Wi' murd'ring pattle!*

I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
And justifies that ill opinion

Which makes thee startle

At me, thy poor earth-born companion,
And fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whyles,* but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker* in a thrave*

'S a sma' request:

I'll get a blessin' wi' the lave,*
And never miss't!

Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
Its silly wa's* the win's are strewin' :
And naething, now, to big * a new ane,
O' foggage green!

*

And bleak December's winds ensuin',*
Baith snell and keen!

*

Thou saw the fields laid bare and waste,
And weary winter coming fast;

And cozie* here, beneath the blast,

Thou thought to dwell,

Till, crash! the cruel coulter* past
Out thro' thy cell.*

That wee bit heap o' leaves and stibble *
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out for a' thy trouble
But house or hald,*

To thole the winter's sleety dribble
And cranreuch* cauld!

Wee, very little.
Sleekit, sleek, smooth.
Cow'rin', crouching
with fear.

Beastie, little beast.
Bickering battle, rac-
ing backwards and
forwards.

Laith, unwilling, loath.

Pattle, the stick used for clearing away the clodsfrom the plough

Whyles, sometimes.

A daimen icker, &c., an ear of corn now and then from the bundle.

Thrave, twenty-four
sheaves.

The lave, the rest,
what is left.
Wa's, walls.

Big, build.

Foggage, after-grass.
Ensuin', coming on.

Snell, biting.

Cozie, comfortable, happy.

Coulter, plough-iron.

Cell, nest.

Stibble, stalks of corn left in the ground after reaping.

But house, &c., without a dwelling place. Thole, bear. Cranreuch, hoarfrost.

Dew, the moisture which falls upon the earth from the air, chiefly at night.

Espied, saw.

Kine, cows.

Tether'd, fastened.

THE PET LAMB.-Wordsworth.

*

THE dew was falling fast, the stars began to
blink;

I heard a voice; it said "Drink, pretty creature,
drink!"

And looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied*
A snow-white mountain lamb, with a maiden at
its side.

Nor sheep, nor kine* were near; the lamb was
all alone

And by a slender cord was tether'd* to a stone;
With one knee on the grass did the little maiden
kneel,

While to that mountain lamb she gave its even-
ing meal.

The lamb, while from her hand he thus his
supper took,

Seem'd to feast with head and ears; and his tail
with pleasure shook :
"Drink, pretty creature, drink!" she said in

such a tone

That I almost received her heart into my own.

'Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a child of
beauty rare!

I watch'd them with delight, they were a lovely

pair;

Now with her empty can the maiden turn'd away; 15
But ere ten yards were gone, her footsteps did

she stay.

Right towards the lamb she look'd; and from that shady
place

I unobserved could see the workings of her face;

If Nature to her tongue could measured numbers bring, Measured 20 Thus, thought I, to her lamb that little maid might sing: numbers,

25

verse,

"What ails thee, Young one? what? Why pull so at poetry.
thy cord?

Is it not well with thee? well both for bed and board?
Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can be ;
Rest, little Young one, rest; what is't that aileth thee?
"What is it thou would seek? What is wanting to thy
heart?

Thy limbs are they not strong? and beautiful thou art!
This grass is tender grass; these flowers they have no

peers;

*

And that green corn all day is rustling in thy ears.

"If the sun be shining hot, do but stretch thy woollen
chain;

Peers, equals

Covert,cover

30 This beech is standing by, its covert* thou canst gain; For rain and mountain-storms!-the like thou need'st ing; it could

not fear,

The rain and storm are things that scarcely can come
here.

Rest, little Young one, rest; thou hast forgot the day
When my father found thee first in places far away;
35 Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wert own'd by

40

45

none,

And thy mother from thy side for evermore was gone.

"He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee

home :

A blessed day for thee !-then whither wouldst thou
roam?

A faithful nurse thou hast ; the dam * that did thee yean
Upon the mountain-tops no kinder could have been,
"Thou know'st that twice a day I have brought thee in

this can

lie in the shade of the beech-tree.

Dam, a female sheep having lambs.

ten it to the cart like a horse, to har

Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever ran;
And twice in the day, when the ground is wet with dew, Yoke, to fas-
I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it is and new.
"Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they are now,
Then I'll yoke thee to my cart like a pony in the plough!
My playmate thou shalt be; and when the wind is cold
Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be thy fold.*

ness it. Fold, an enclosed place for keeping sheep.

"It will not, will not rest!-Poor creature, can it be That 'tis thy mother's heart which is working so in

thee?

Belike, perhaps, Things that I know not of belike* to thee are dear, probably. And dreams of things which thou canst neither see

Raven, a bird of prey.

nor hear.

"Alas, the mountain-tops that look so green and fair I've heard of fearful winds and darkness that come

there;

The little brooks that seem all pastime and all play, 55 When they are angry, roar like lions for their prey. "Here thou need'st not dread the raven* in the sky; Night and day thou art safe,—our cottage is hard by.* Hard by, close Why bleat so after me? Why pull so at thy chain? Sleep-and at break of day I will come to thee again !”

at hand, near.

Damsel, a girl.

-As homeward through the lane I went with lazy
feet,

This song to myself did I oftentimes repeat;
And it seem'd, as I retraced the ballad line by line,
That but half of it was hers, and one half of it was
mine

Again, and once again, did I repeat the song;
"Nay," said I, "more than half to the damsel* must
belong!-

For she look'd with such a look, and she spake with
such a tone,

That I almost received her heart into my own."

RESIGNATION.-Longfellow.

60

65

THERE is no flock, however watched and tended,*

But one dead lamb is there!

There is no fire-side, howso'er defended,*
But has one vacant* chair!

The air is full of farewells to the dying,
And mournings * for the dead;

The heart of Rachel * for her children crying,
Will not be comforted.

Let us be patient! These severe afflictions
Not from the ground arise,

But oftentimes celestial* benedictions *
Assume this dark disguise.*

*

5

ΙΟ