THE MOUNTAIN SPRING.

———

BY MISS MARY MACLEAN.

———

[SEE ENGRAVING.]

On a sultry noon in summer,

When the very air was still,

Young Jessie from her cottage

Came, sighing, to the rill:—

Her graceless lover, Donald,

With his laird, Sir Vasavour,

And a troop of gallant gentlemen.

Were hunting on the moor;

And many a day and night had passed

Since he had sought her door.

But when the simple maiden

Drew slowly toward the spring—

So heavy with her loneliness,

She had not heart to sing—

She saw a stranger kneeling,

And paused, with modest fears,

But the cadence of her footstep

Had reached his eager ears—

And Jessie lay in Donald’s arms,

While he kissed away her tears.

THE MOUNTAIN SPRING. Engraved expressly for Graham’s Magazine by G. J. Anderson