The lapwing lilteth o’er the lea,
With nimble wing she sporteth;
By vows she’ll flee from tree to tree
Where Philomel resorteth:
By break of day, the lark can say,
I’ll bid you a good-morrow,
I’ll streik my wing, and mounting sing,
O’er Leader hauchs and Yarrow.Nicol Burn, the Minstrel.
XXIII. Catching a Tartar,
Fr. Sol. O, prennez miséricorde! ayez pitié de moy!
Pist. Moy shall not serve, I will have forty moys!
For I will fetch my rim out at thy throat,
In drops of crimson blood.Henry V.
XXIV. James Batter and the Maid of Damascus,
He chose a mournful muse
Soft pity to infuse;
He sung the Weaver wise and good,
By too severe a fate,
Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,
Fallen from his high estate,
And weltering in his blood.Dryden Revised.
All close they met, all eves, before the dusk
Had taken from the stars its pleasant veil,
Close in a bower of hyacinth and musk,
Unknown of any, free from whispering tale.Keats.
XXV. A Philistine in the Coal-Hole,
They steeked doors, they steeked yetts,
Close to the cheek and chin;
They steeked them a’ but a wee wicket,
And Lammikin crapt in.Ballad of the Lammikin.
Hame cam our gudeman at een,
And hame cam he;
And there he spied a man
Where a man shouldna be.
Hoo cam this man kimmer,
And who can it be;
Hoo cam this carle here,
Without the leave o’ me?Old Song.
XXVI. Benjie on the Carpet,
It’s no in titles, nor in rank—
It’s no in wealth, like Lon’on bank,
To purchase peace and rest;
It’s no in making muckle mair—
It’s no in books—it’s no in lear,
To make us truly blest.Burns.
XXVII. “Puggie, Puggie,”