Up and away!—up, up, and away!
The hedgerows are foaming with blossom to-day;
Its bonfires the golden gorse lights on the hill,
And the wanton wind’s wooing wherever it will.
Up and away!—up, up, and away!
The cuckoo’s name rings through the woodlands to-day;
The warm blood of Summer runs rioting through
The veins of each leaflet—then why not of you?
Up and away!—up, up, and away!
There’s Passion and Poetry stirring to-day.
Half blinded with rapture, the heavy bees dart
From the lily’s white breast to the rose’s red heart.
Up and away!—up, up, and away!
The old world’s begun a fresh courting to-day.
I wooed you all winter, but found you as cold
As the snowdrift that gleamed on the ridge of the wold.
Up and away!—up, up, and away!
Your eyes tell me “Yes,” though your lips say me “Nay.”
The tears, so long frost-bound, are ready to flow,
And she melts in my arms, my proud maiden of snow!
WEE ELSIE
O’ a’ the bonny wee bit lasses
That e’er I’ve kent, not ane surpasses
My Elsie.
An’ oh, she has sic denty ways,
Auld farrant a’ she does and says;
Just watch the bairnie as she plays
“At mither,” dressed in mither’s claes!
Like twa sweet rosebuds on ae stalk,
Her lips part in her guileless talk;
She hauds a key that wad unlock
Yer heart were’t hard as granite rock.
Sae fearless are her een o’ blue,
They seem tae look ye through an’ through;
But though sae brave, an’ frank, an’ true,
Wi’ happy fun they’re brimmin’ fu’.