Lady Moon

"Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?"

"Over the sea."

"Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?"

"All that love me."

"Are you not tired with rolling and never

Resting to sleep?

Why look so pale and so sad, as for ever

Wishing to weep?"

"Ask me not this, little child, if you love me;

You are too bold

I must obey my dear Father above me,

And do as I'm told."

"Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?"

"Over the sea."

"Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?"

"All that love me."

_Lord Houghton._

Breathes There the Man With Soul So Dead?

_(From "The Lay of the Last Minstrel")_

Breathes there the man with soul so dead

Who never to himself hath said,

This is my own, my native land?

Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned,

As home his footsteps he hath turned

From wandering on a foreign strand?

If such there breathe, go, mark him well;

For him no minstrel raptures swell;

High though his titles, proud his name,

Boundless his wealth as wish can claim,--

Despite those titles, power, and pelf,

The wretch, concentred all in self,

Living, shall forfeit fair renown,

And, doubly dying, shall go down

To the vile dust from whence he sprung,

Unwept, unhonored and unsung.

_Sir Walter Scott._