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Poems by James Hyslop

... With a Sketch of his Life, and Notes on his Poems, By the Rev. Peter Mearns

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L. Dialogue in Scottish.
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197

L.
Dialogue in Scottish.

[_]

Imitation of Horace.

Hyslop.
When I was thine, no ane ava
Cuddled like me thy neck o' snaw;
When 'midst the gowans on the brae,
My hand amang thy love-locks lay,
I wadnae gi'en ae wee saft curl
For a' the kingdoms o' the warl.

Anna.
When I was thine, an' interwove
Wi' a' your sweetest sangs o' love;
When nae Eliza's name was there,
But Anna wi' the auburn hair;
When envious maids maist grat wi' spleen,
Anna was happier than a queen.

Hyslop.
Eliza's prettier far than you;
Her een are o' the saftest blue;
An' sweetly can Eliza sing
To her piano's tremblin' string:
Her breast, her lips—how gladly I
For young Eliza's love could die!

Anna.
I'm glad to hear't, I too have ane,
Wi' many a gold ring on his han',
Would fain mak' Anna a' his own,
And fondly kiss her locks o' brown:
White is his forehead, dark his e'e:
I for his sake could ten times dee!

Hyslop.
O tell me thy bewitchin' mouth
Speaks na ae single word o' truth.
Eliza's e'en o' saftest blue
Are guid for nocht but teasin' you.

198

O let thy early lover rest
His lips again upon thy breast!
My dark-eyed maid by Nith's sweet river
Shall mingle in my songs for ever.

Anna.
Well, Hyslop, this is far too bad:
Your tricks wad drive a maiden mad.
How do you think my heart can bear
Thus to be teas'd by ane sae dear?
But tho' there's tinder in your nature,
You're such a kind, caressing creature,
I ken your fond heart cannot be
Five minutes true to ane but me.
Come to my bosom, for in vain
Frae you it would its love restrain,
In vain my lips would quarrel longer
Wi' yours thus to seal up their anger.