igtail's
master; and insisted, that as we had heard about his foreign sweetheart's
death, which he appeared to have taken so much to heart, we should just
bear with him once more, as he read over what he called her dirgie, which
was written on a half-sheet of grey mouldy paper--as if handed down from
the days of the Covenanters. It jingles well; and both Nanse and me
thought it gey and pretty; but eh! if ye only had heard how James Batter
read it. It beat cock-fighting.

DIRGE.

I.

Weep not for her!--Oh she was far too fair,
Too pure to dwell on this guilt-tainted earth!
The sinless glory, and the golden air
Of Zion, seem'd to claim her from her birth;
A Spirit wander'd from its native Zone,
Which, soon discovering, took her for its own:
Weep not for Her!

II.

Weep not for her!--Her span was like the sky,
Whose thousand stars shine beautiful and bright;
Like flowers that know not what it is to die;
Like long-linked, shadeless months of Polar light;
Like music floating o'er a waveless lake,
While Echo answers from the flowery brake:
Weep not for Her!

III.

Weep not for her!--She died in early youth,
Ere hope had lost its rich romantic hues;
When human bosoms seem'd the homes of truth,
And earth still gleam'd with beauty's radiant dews.
Her summer prime waned not to days that freeze;
Her wine of life was run not to the lees:
Weep not for Her!

IV.

Weep not for her--By fleet or slow decay,
It never grieved her bosom's core to mark
The playmates of her childhood wane away,
Her prospects wither, or her hopes grow dark;
Translated by her God with spirit shriven,
She pass'd as 'twere in smiles from earth to heaven:
Weep not for Her!

V.

Weep not for her!--It was not hers to feel
The miseries that corrode amassing years,
'Gainst dreams of baffled bliss the heart to steel,
To wander sad down age's vale of tears,
As whirl the wither'd leaves from friendship's tree,
And on earth's wintry wold alone to be:
Weep not for Her!

VI.

Weep not for her!--She is an angel now,
And treads the sapphire floors of paradise:
All darkness wiped from her refulgent brow,
Sin, sorrow, suffering, banish'd from her eyes;
Victorious over death, to her appear
The vista'd joys of heaven's eternal year;
Weep not for Her!

VII.

Weep not for her!--Her memory is the shrine
Of pleasant thoughts, soft as the scent of flowers.
Calm as