WILLIAM COWPER
And still to love, though pressed with ill. In wintry age to feel no chill, With me is to be lovely still,
My Mary '
But ah' by constant heed I know How oft the sadness that I show Transforms thy smiles to looks of woe,
My Mary'
And should my future lot be cast With much resemblance of the past, Thy worn-out heart will break at last
My Mary'
486 An Eptayh
thee I once have stemm'd the sea of life, Like thee have languished afte* empty joys, Like thee have labour J d in the stormy strife,
Been grieved for trifles, and amused with toys. Forget my frailties, thou art also frail:
Forgive my lapses; for thyself may'st fall: Nor read unmoved my artless tender tale I was a friend, O man, to thee, to all.
ISOBEL PAGAN
487 Co? the Yowes to the Knowes
CA' the yowes to the knowcs, Ca' them where the heather grows, Ca' them where the burnie rows,
My bonnie dearie.
487 yowes] ewes. knowes] knolls, little hills. rows] rolls.
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