120

THE HOMES OF ENGLAND.

THE HOMES OF ENGLAND.

The stately Homes of England!
How beautiful they stand,
Amidst their tall, ancestral trees,

O'er all the pleasant land!

The deer across their greensward bound,
Through shade and sunny gleam,

And the swan glides past them with the sound
Of some rejoicing stream.

The merry Homes of England!
Around their hearths by night,

What gladsome looks of household love

Meet in the ruddy light!

There woman's voice flows forth in song,
Or childish tale is told,

Or lips move tunefully along

Some glorious page of old.

The blessed Homes of England!

How softly on their bowers

Is laid the holy quietness

That breathes from Sabbath hours!

Solemn, yet sweet, the church bells' chime
Floats through their woods at morn;
All other sounds, in that still time,
Of breeze and leaf are born.

The cottage Homes of England!
By thousands on her plains

They're smiling o'er the silv'ry brooks,
And round the hamlet fanes.
Through glowing orchards forth they peep,
Each from its nook of leaves;
And fearless there the lowly sleep,
As the bird beneath their eaves.

The free, fair Homes of England!
Long, long, in hut and hall,

May hearts of native proof be reared

To guard each hallowed wall!

And green forever be the

groves,

And bright the flowery sod,

Where first the child's glad spirit loves

Its country and its God!

MRS. HEMANS.

LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER

A chieftain to the Highlands bound
Cries, Boatman, do not tarry!
And I'll give thee a silver pound
To row us o'er the ferry."

"Now, who be ye would cross Lochgyle

This dark and stormy water?"

"Oh, I am chief of Ulva's isle,

And this, Lord Ullin's daughter.

"And fast before her father's men

Three days we've fled together; For, should he find us in the glen,

My blood would stain the heather.

"His horsemen hard behind us ride;
Should they our steps discover,
Then who would cheer my bonny bride
When they have slain her lover?"

Out spoke the hardy island wight,
"I'll go, my chief— I'm ready: —

It is not for your silver bright,
But for your winsome lady;

"And by my word, the bonny bird
In danger shall not tarry;

So, though the waves are raging white, I'll row you o'er the ferry."

By this the storm grew loud apace,
The water-wraith was shrieking,
And in the scowl of heaven each face
Grew dark as they were speaking.

But still as wilder blew the wind,
And as the night grew drearer,
Adown the glen rode arméd men,

Their tramping sounded nearer.

124

LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER.

"Oh, haste thee, haste!" the lady cries;
"Though tempests round us gather;
I'll meet the raging of the skies,
But not an angry father."

The boat has left a stormy land,

A stormy sea before her,

When, oh! too strong for human hand,
The tempest gathered o'er her.

And still they rowed amidst the roar
Of waters fast prevailing;

Lord Ullin reached that fatal shore,

His wrath was changed to wailing.

For sore dismayed, through storm and shade,
His child he did discover:

One lovely hand she stretched for aid,

And one was round her lover.

"Come back! come back!" he cried in grief,

"Across this stormy water;

And I'll forgive your Highland chief,

My daughter! - O my daughter!"

'Twas vain: the loud waves lashed the shore, Return or aid preventing;

The waters wild went o'er his child,

And he was left lamenting.

CAMPBELL.