'Waken, lords and ladies gay.'

Waken, lords and ladies gay,
To the greenwood haste away;
We can show you where he lies,
Fleet of foot and tall of size;
We can show the marks he made
When 'gainst the oak his antlers frayed;
You shall see him brought to bay:
'Waken, lords and ladies gay.'

Louder, louder chant the lay,
Waken, lords and ladies gay!
Tell them youth and mirth and glee
Run a course as well as we;
Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk,
Staunch as hound and fleet as hawk;
Think of this, and rise with day,
Gentle lords and ladies gay!

Scott

It is not what he has, nor even what he does, which directly expresses
the worth of a man, but what he is.

Amiel

BORDER BALLAD

March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale,
Why, my lads, dinna ye march forward in order!
March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale,
All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border.
Many a banner spread
Flutters above your head,
Many a crest that is famous in story;
Mount and make ready then,
Sons of the mountain glen,
Fight for the Queen and our old Scottish glory!

Come from the hills where your hirsels[1] are grazing,
Come from the glen of the buck and the roe;
Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing,
Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow;
Trumpets are sounding,
War-steeds are bounding,
Stand to your arms, and march in good order;
England shall many a day
Tell of the bloody fray
When the Blue Bonnets came over the Border.

Scott

FOOTNOTES:
[1] Cattle

THE GREAT NORTHERN DIVER

The weird, long call, or the shrill, demoniacal laugh coming out of the
night tells of the sleepless activity of the loon. The whip-poor-will in
the adjacent shrubbery seems companionable, and there is a friendly
spirit in the short, shrill tremolo of the night-hawk from the invisible
sky. Even the plaint of the screech-owl has a tone of human sympathy.
But the dreary cadence of the loon is the voice of the inhospitable
night, repelling every thought of human association. It does not
entreat, it does not warn; yet there is a fascination in its
expressionless strength. Over the black water, under the lowering sky,
or through the bright still moonlight, the same unfeeling tone fills the
ear of night. And sometimes, when the lingering