THE LASS OF LAMMERMOOR. I MET a lass on Lammermoor, Between the corn and blooming heather; Around her waist red gowd she wore, And in her cap she wore a feather. Her steps were light, her looks were bright, O sic a geck she gave her head, And sic a toss she gave her feather; Man, saw ye ne'er a bonnie lass Before, among the blooming heather? Pass on, pass on, so fair a one Should be less scornful; I would rather Have one I name not in her snood, Than thou with thy proud cap and feather. UPPER CANADA, MAY 2. CHILLO N. A LONELY tower, a shaggy hill, Green spreading groves, and waters still: Art well hath wrought its wondrous task; And shaggy hill, and sunlit bower, Bright down from heaven by Byron's thought. He gave that tower a tongue to tell Of sorrow like a parting knell ; He stamped the likeness of a god On every stone and crumbling clod; The very water seems to take His form as we look on the lake; The sweeping wind, the glittering rill, His glory round earth's lowliest things; Warm, glowing, strong, soft, tender, faint— THE CHURCHYARD. BY CAROLINE BOWLES. THE thought of early death was in my heart, An overwhelming dread Mysteriously my spirit did oppress. And forth I roamed in that distressful mood, All hung with one huge cloud, That like a sable shroud On Nature's deep sepulchral stillness lay. |