The sea grows purple in the evening hours.
DAWN SONG

I hear a twittering of birds,
And now they burst in song.

How sweet, although it wants the words!
It shall not want them long,

For I will set some to the note
Which bubbles from the thrush's throat.

O jewelled night, that reign'st on high,
Where is thy crescent moon?

Thy stars have faded from the sky,
The sun is coming soon.

The summer night is passed away,
Sing welcome to the summer day.

CAIRNSMILL DEN--TUNE: `A ROVING'
As I, with hopeless love o'erthrown,

With love o'erthrown, with love o'erthrown,
And this is truth I tell,

As I, with hopeless love o'erthrown,
Was sadly walking all alone,

I met my love one morning
In Cairnsmill Den.

One morning, one morning,
One blue and blowy morning,

I met my love one morning
In Cairnsmill Den.

A dead bough broke within the wood
Within the wood, within the wood,

And this is truth I tell.
A dead bough broke within the wood,

And I looked up, and there she stood.
I asked what was it brought her there,

What brought her there, what brought her there,
And this is truth I tell.

I asked what was it brought her there.
Says she, `To pull the primrose fair.'

Says I, `Come, let me pull with you,
Along with you, along with you,'

And this is truth I tell.
Says I, `Come let me pull with you,

For one is not so good as two.'
But when at noon we climbed the hill,

We climbed the hill, we climbed the hill,
And this is truth I tell.

But when at noon we climbed the hill,
Her hands and mine were empty still.

And when we reached the top so high,
The top so high, the top so high,

And this is truth I tell.
And when we reached the top so high

Says I, `I'll kiss you, if I die!'
I kissed my love in Cairnsmill Den,

In Cairnsmill Den, in Cairnsmill Den,
And this is truth I tell.

I kissed my love in Cairnsmill Den,
And my love kissed me back again.

I met my love one morning
In Cairnsmill Den.

One morning, one morning,
One blue and blowy morning,

I met my love one morning
In Cairnsmill Den.

A LOST OPPORTUNITY
One dark, dark night--it was long ago,

The air was heavy and still and warm -
It fell to me and a man I know,

To see two girls to their father's farm.
There was little seeing, that I recall:

We seemed to grope in a cave profound.
They might have come by a painful fall,

Had we not helped them over the ground.
The girls were sisters. Both were fair,

But mine was the fairer (so I say).
The dark soon severed us, pair from pair,

And not long after we lost our way.
We wandered over the country-side,

And we frightened most of the sheep about,
And I do not think that we greatly tried,

Having lost our way, to find it out.
The night being fine, it was not worth while.

We strayed through furrow and corn and grass
We met with many a fence and stile,

And a quickset hedge, which we failed to pass.
At last we came on a road she knew;

She said we were near her father's place.
I heard the steps of the other two,

And my heart stood still for a moment's space.
Then I pleaded, `Give me a good-night kiss.'

I have learned, but I did not know in time,
The fruits that hang on the tree of bliss

Are not for cravens who will not climb.
We met all four by the farmyard gate,

We parted laughing, with half a sigh,
And home we went, at a quicker rate,

A shorter journey, my friend and I.
When we reached the house, it was late enough,

And many impertinent things were said,
Of time and distance, and such dull stuff,

But we said little, and went to bed.
We went to bed, but one at least

Went not to sleep till the black turned grey,
And the sun rose up, and the light increased,

And the birds awoke to a summer day.
And sometimes now, when the nights are mild,

And the moon is away, and no stars shine,
I wander out, and I go half-wild,

To think of the kiss which was not mine.
Let great minds laugh at a grief so small,

Let small minds laugh at a fool so great.
Kind maidens, pity me, one and all.

Shy youths, take warning by this my fate.
THE CAGED THRUSH

Alas for the bird who was born to sing!
They have made him a cage; they have clipped his wing;

They have shut him up in a dingy street,
And they praise his singing and call it sweet.

But his heart and his song are saddened and filled
With the woods, and the nest he never will build,

And the wild young dawn coming into the tree,
And the mate that never his mate will be.

And day by day, when his notes are heard
They freshen the street--but alas for the bird

MIDNIGHT
The air is dark and fragrant

With memories of a shower,
And sanctified with stillness

By this most holy hour.
The leaves forget to whisper

Of soft and secret things,
And every bird is silent,

With folded eyes and wings.
O blessed hour of midnight,

Of sleep and of release,
Thou yieldest to the toiler

The wages of thy peace.
And I, who have not laboured,

Nor borne the heat of noon,
Receive thy tranquil quiet -

An undeserved boon.
Yes, truly God is gracious,

Who makes His sun to shine
Upon the good and evil,

And idle lives like mine.
Upon the just and unjust

He sends His rain to fall,
And gives this hour of blessing

Freely alike to all.
WHERE'S THE USE

Oh, where's the use of having gifts that can't be turned to money?
And where's the use of singing, when there's no one wants to hear?

It may be one or two will say your songs are sweet as honey,
But where's the use of honey, when the loaf of bread is dear?

A MAY-DAY MADRIGAL
The sun shines fair on Tweedside, the river flowing bright,

Your heart is full of pleasure, your eyes are full of light,
Your cheeks are like the morning, your pearls are like the dew,

Or morning and her dew-drops are like your pearls and you.
Because you are a princess, a princess of the land,

You will not turn your lightsome eyes a moment where I stand,
A poor unnoticed poet, a-making of his rhymes;

But I have found a mistress, more fair a thousand times.
`Tis May, the elfish maiden, the daughter of the Spring,

Upon whose birthday morning the birds delight to sing.
They would not sing one note for you, if you should so command,

Although you are a princess, a princess of the land.
SONG IS NOT DEAD

Song is not dead, although to-day
Men tell us everything is said.

There yet is something left to say,
Song is not dead.

While still the evening sky is red,
While still the morning gold and grey,

While still the autumn leaves are shed,
While still the heart of youth is gay,

And honour crowns the hoary head,
While men and women love and pray

Song is not dead.
A SONG OF TRUCE

Till the tread of marching feet
Through the quiet grass-grown street

Of the little town shall come,
Soldier, rest awhile at home.

While the banners idly hang,
While the bugles do not clang,

While is hushed the clamorous drum,
Soldier, rest awhile at home.

In the breathing-time of Death,
While the sword is in its sheath,

While the cannon's mouth is dumb,
Soldier, rest awhile at home.

Not too long the rest shall be.
Soon enough, to Death and thee,

The assembly call shall come.
Soldier, rest awhile at home.

ONE TEAR
Last night, when at parting

Awhile we did stand,
Suddenly starting,

There fell on my hand
Something that burned it,

Something that shone

• purple [´pə:pl] n.紫色 a.紫(红)的 (初中英语单词)
• welcome [´welkəm] a.受欢迎的；可喜的 (初中英语单词)
• wander [´wɔndə, ´wɑ:n:dər] v.徘徊；流浪 (初中英语单词)
• princess [,prin´ses] n.公主；王妃；亲王夫人 (初中英语单词)
• mistress [´mistris] n.女主人；情妇；女能手 (初中英语单词)
• maiden [´meidn] n.少女 a.未婚的 (初中英语单词)
• awhile [ə´wail] ad.少顷；片刻 (初中英语单词)
• assembly [ə´sembli] n.集会；装配；与会者 (初中英语单词)
• hopeless [´həupləs] a.无望的，无可救药的 (高中英语单词)
• seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
• painful [´peinfəl] a.痛(苦)的；费力的 (高中英语单词)
• learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
• crescent [´kresənt] n.月牙 a.新月形的 (英语四级单词)
• primrose [´primrəuz] n.樱草(花) a.樱草的 (英语四级单词)
• furrow [´fʌrəu] n.沟 vt.犁；使起皱纹 (英语四级单词)
• warning [´wɔ:niŋ] n.警告；前兆 a.预告的 (英语四级单词)
• blessed [´blesid] a.享福的；神圣的 (英语四级单词)
• farmyard [´fɑ:mjɑ:d] n.农家场院 (英语六级单词)
• tranquil [´træŋkwil] a.平静的，稳定的 (英语六级单词)
• clamorous [´klæmərəs] a.喧闹的；吵吵嚷嚷的 (英语六级单词)