Thou art my life, my love, my heart,
The very eyes of me,

And hast command of every part,

To live and die for thee.

CXLIV.

Robert Herrick.

LOVE'S PROTESTATION.

LOVE UNCHANGING.

I CANNOT change, as others do,
Though you unjustly storm;

Since the poor swain that sighs for you,
For you alone was born.

No, Phillis, no; your heart to move

A surer way I'll try.

And to revenge my slighted love,

Will still live on, will still love on, and die.

When killed with grief Amyntas lies,

And you to mind shall call

The sighs that now unpitied rise,

The tears that warmly fall;

That welcome hour that ends his smart

Will then begin your pain;

For such a faithful, tender heart,

Can never break, can never break in vain.

John, Earl of Rochester.

CXLV.

LOVE'S PROTESTATION.

SALLY.

Of all the girls that are so smart,
There's none like pretty Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.
There is no lady in the land
Is half so sweet as Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

Her father he makes cabbage-nets

And through the streets does cry 'em; Her mother she sells laces long

To such as please to buy 'em :
But sure such folks could ne'er beget
So sweet a girl as Sally!
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

When she is by, I leave my work,
I love her so sincerely;
My master comes like any Turk,
And bangs me most severely-
But let him bang his bellyful,
I'll bear it all for Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

Of all the days that's in the week

I dearly love but one day-
And that's the day that comes betwixt
A Saturday and Monday;

For then I'm drest all in my best
To walk abroad with Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

My master carries me to church,
And often am I blamed

Because I leave him in the lurch
As soon as text is named ;
I leave the church in sermon-time,
And slink away to Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

When Christmas comes about again

O then I shall have money;

I'll hoard it up, and box it all,

I'll give it to my honey:

I would it were ten thousand pound,
I'd give it all to Sally;

She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

My master and the neighbours all
Make game of me and Sally,
And, but for her, I'd better be
A slave and row a galley;

But when my seven long years are out
O then I'll marry Sally,--

O then we'll wed, and then we'll bed,
But not in our alley!

Henry Carey.

CXLVI.

LOVE'S PROTESTATION.

A RED, RED ROSE.

O MY Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June:
O my Luve's like the melodie

That's sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I :

And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry :

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;

I will luve thee still, my dear,

While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve!
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Though it were ten thousand mile.

Robert Burns.

CXLVII.

LOVE'S PROTESTATION.

HIGHLAND MARY.

YE banks and braes and streams around
The castle o' Montgomery,

Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie!

There simmer first unfauld her robes,

And there the langest tarry;

For there I took the last farewell
O' my sweet Highland Mary.

How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk,
How rich the hawthorn's blossom,
As underneath their fragrant shade
I clasped her to my bosom !
The golden hours on angel wings
Flew o'er me and my dearie;
For dear to me as light and life
Was my sweet Highland Mary.
Wi' mony a vow and locked embrace
Our parting was fu' tender;
And pledging aft to meet again,

We tore oursels asunder;

But, O! fell death's untimely frost,

That nipt my flower sae early!

Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay,

That wraps my Highland Mary!

O pale, pale now, those rosy lips,

I aft hae kissed sae fondly!

And closed for aye the sparkling glance
That dwelt on me sae kindly;

And mouldering now in silent dust
That heart that lo'ed me dearly!
But still within my bosom's core
Shall live my Highland Mary.

Robert Burns.

CXLVIII.

LOVE'S PROTESTATION.

JEAN.

OF a' the airts the wind can blaw
I dearly like the West,

For there the bonnie lassie lives,

The lassie I lo'e best :

There wild woods grow, and rivers row,
And monie a hill between;

But day and night my fancy's flight
Is ever wi' my Jean.

I see her in the dewy flowers,
I see her sweet and fair:

I hear her in the tunefu' birds,
I hear her charm the air:
There's not a bonnie flower that springs
By fountain, shaw, or green,
There's not a bonnie bird that sings
But minds me o' my Jean.

O blaw ye westlin winds, blaw saft
Amang the leafy trees;

Wi' balmy gale, frae hill and dale
Bring hame the laden bees;
And bring the lassie back to me

That's aye sae neat and clean;
A smile o' her wad banish care,
Sae charming is my Jean.

What sighs and vows amang the knowes
Hae passed atween us twa!

How fond to meet, how wae to part

That night she gaed awa!

The Powers aboon can only ken

To whom the heart is seen,

That nane can be sae dear to me

As my sweet lovely Jean!

Robert Burns.