[ LUCY ASHTON’S SONG]
Look not thou on beauty’s charming,— Sit thou still when kings are arming,— Taste not when the wine-cup glistens,— Speak not when the people listens,— Stop thine ear against the singer,— From the red gold keep thy finger,— Vacant heart, and hand, and eye, Easy live and quiet die.
[ EVENING]
The sun upon the lake is low, The wild birds hush their song; The hills have evening’s deepest glow, Yet Leonard tarries long.
Now all whom varied toil and care From home and love divide, In the calm sunset may repair Each to the loved one’s side.
The noble dame on turret high, Who waits her gallant knight, Looks to the western beam to spy The flash of armour bright. The village maid, with hand on brow The level ray to shade, Upon the footpath watches now For Colin’s darkening plaid.