ore,
'Till affection and love become one with the breath
Of life in the silent oblivion of death,
Perchance in that hour of the spirit's repose,
But not until then, when the dark eyelids close,
Can this fond heart forget thee, Llan Meilen's sweet Rose.

MY NATIVE COT.

The white cot where I spent my youth
Is on yon lofty mountain side,
The stream which flowed beside the door
Adown the mossy slope doth glide;
The holly tree that hid one end
Is shaken by the moaning wind,
Like as it was in days of yore
When 'neath its boughs I shade did find.

Clear is the sky of morning tide,
Bright is the season time of youth,
Before the mid-day clouds appear,
And fell deceit obliterates truth;
Black tempest in the evening lowers,
The rain descends with whirlwind force,
And long ere midnight's hour nears
Full is the heart of deep remorse.

Where are my old companions dear,
Who in those days with me did play?
The green graves in the parish yard
Will soon the mournful answer say:
Farewell therefore ye pleasures light,
Which in my youth I did enjoy,
Dark evening's come with all its trials,
And these the bliss of life destroy.

UNDER THE ORCHARD TREE.

Under the deep-laden boughs of the orchard
Walks a maid that is fairer than all its rich fruit,
And little I doubt if I stood beneath them,
To which of the objects I'd offer my suit.
'Twas little I thought when I was a stripling
While gazing upon the apples so sweet,
I ever should see beneath the green branches
An object which yet I much sooner would greet.

Thy father was careful about his rich orchard,
To fence well and strong lest the neighbours should stray,
For now there doth, wander amid its green arbours
A maiden more lovely than aught in the way;
Its fruit I would leave to the one who may wish it,
But her, who moves so majestic between,
I'd steal from the orchard without a misgiving,
And never would touch its apples so green.

THE BANKS OF THE DEE.

One morning in May, when soft breezes were blowing
O'er Dee's pleasant tide with a ripple and swell,
A shepherdess tended her flock that was feeding
Upon the green meadows that lay in the dell,
Her blue eye she raised, and she looked all around her,
As if she'd fain see some one far on the lea,
And spite of its brightness, I saw the salt tear
For one who was far from the banks of the Dee.

The maiden I thought wa