THE MAID OF LLANWELLYN. JOANNA BAILLIE. I've no sheep on the mountain, nor boat on the lake, Nor corn in my garner, nor fruit on my tree- Soft tapping at eve to her window I came, And loud bayed the watch dog, loud scolded the dame. Rich Owen will tell with you eyes full of scorn, Threadbare is my coat, and my hosen are torn: Scoff on, my rich Owen, for faint is thy glee The farmer rides proudly to market and fair, And the clerk at the alehouse still claims the great chair; But of all our proud fellows the proudest I'll be, While the maid of Llanwellyn smiles sweetly on me. For blithe as the urchin at holiday play, Is the maid of Llanwellyn who smiles upon me. THE GALLANT AULD CARLE. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. A gallant auld carle a-courting came, And ask'd with a cough, was the heiress at hame; Be kind to him, maiden, he's weel arrayed; The carle came ben with a groan and a cough, LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER. THOMAS CAMPBELL, ESQ. A chieftain, to the highlands bound, Oh, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together; My blood would stain the heather. Outspoke the hardy highland wight, VOL. IV. Y And by my word, the bonny bird So, though the waves are raging white, By this the storm grew loud apace, But still as wilder blew the wind, O haste thee, haste! the lady cries: When oh, too strong for human hand, And still they rowed amidst the roar Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore, His wrath was chang'd to wailing: For sore dismayed thro' storm and shade His child he did discover; One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid, Come back, come back, he cried in grief, Across this stormy water; And I'll forgive your highland chief- The waters wild went o'er his child, And he was left lamenting. THE PIRATE'S SONG. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. O lady, come to the Indies with me, A gallant ship, and a boundless sea, |