Her Name.
[Music by Mr. James Ferguson, Edinburgh.—Here first printed.]
Her name! oh, her name would'st thou have me to tell?
Ah no! from this bosom thou reav'st not the spell
Which cheers it at ev'ning and glads it at morn,
Howe'er by life's cares 'tis distracted and torn.
A name which is sunlight and moonlight to me,
I'll breathe 't to the night winds but not unto thee.
That name I shall teach the sweet streamlets to cry,
And list till I hear the glad echoes reply;
And, oft as it rises, the soft scented breeze
Shall waft it away through the tall forest trees;
Till linnets and thrushes, inspir'd by the theme,
Shall sing like the fays only heard when we dream.
What joyous delight, in the calm ev'ning shade,
To hear the lov'd name warbled thus through the glade;
'Twill steal o'er my brain like the warm summer air,
When loaded with perfume of eglantines fair;
I'll dream until even the starlets proclaim
The dear words; but ah, I'll not tall thee her name!
Wilt thou remember me.
[Patrick Maxwell, editor of Miss Blamire's Poetical Works. Tune, "Good night, and joy be ye a'."—Here first printed.]
Farewell! and, when I'm far away,
O say, wilt thou remember me,
When favour'd friends and faces gay
Their soul's pure incense tender thee?—
When all around are glad the while,
And glory in thy loveliness;—
When every heart shall own thy smile
Its proudest aim—its highest bliss?
This may not be: thou know'st me not,
A wand'rer on life's weary road;
Yet will I bless my happy lot
That led me to thy lov'd abode.
I may not claim to have a part
In thy dear breast, thou being fair;
Yet, Lady, could'st thou see my heart,
Thyself thou would'st find pictur'd there!
There it will dwell, and time defy
So dear a record to erase;—
Jiemorial of a dream gone by,
The best, the brightest of my days.
O that we had together met
When youth and hope alike were new;
My wither'd heart perhaps had yet
Been spar'd the pangs of this adieu!
Sweet Jeanie lass.
[Addressed to one of the rising generation of "Ayrshire's bonnie lasses." By Capt. Charles Gray, R. M.—Here first printed.]
Sweet Jeanie lass, my dearie,
Gin I were young again,
Nane else through life should cheer me,
Wad thou but be my ain.
But eild is creepin' o'er me;
Bark shadows lower apace;
While hope shines bright before thee,
And joy lights up thy face.
May health, life's greatest blessing,
Beam on thy cheek and brow;
Be thine love's fond caressing
Wi' ane whase heart is true.
May age wi' a' its treasure
O' sober thoughts be mine;
While ilka heartfelt pleasure,
Dear Jeanie lass, is thine.
I had a dream.
[William Miller of Glasgow.—Here first printed.]
I had a dream o' ither days,
A sinless dream o' joy,
It rame like sunshine through a clud
Life's dark spots to destroy.
