Oh, white were her arms,
    And far whiter her neck—­
  Her long locks in armfuls
    Overflow’d all the deck: 
  One hand on the rudder
    She pleasantly laid,
  Another on Sandy,
    And merrily said—­
  “Thy halve-net has wrought thee
    A gallant day’s darg—­
  Thou’rt monarch of Solway,
    My young Sandy Harg.”

  Oh, loud laugh’d young Sandy,
    And swore by the mass,
  “I’ll never reign king,
    But mid gowans and grass:” 
  Oh, loud laugh’d young Sandy,
    And swore, “By thy hand,
  My May Morley, I’m thine,
    Both by water and land! 
  ’Twere marvel if mer-woman,
    Slimy and slarg,
  Could rival the true love
    Of young Sandy Harg.”

  She knotted one ringlet. 
    Syne knotted she twain,
  And sang—­lo! thick darkness
    Dropp’d down on the main—­
  She knotted three ringlets,
    Syne knotted she nine,
  A tempest stoop’d sudden
    And sharp on the brine,
  And away flew the boat—­
    There’s a damsel in Larg
  Will wonder what’s come of thee
    Young Sandy Harg.

  “The sky’s spitting fire,”
    Cried Sandy—­“and see! 
  Green Criffel reels round,
    And will choke up the sea;
  From their bottles of tempest
    The fiends draw the corks,
  Wide Solway is barmy,
    Like ale when it works;
  There sits Satan’s daughter,
    Who works this dread darg,
  To mar my blythe bridal”
    Quoth young Sandy Harg.

  From his bosom a spell
    To work wonders he took,
  Thrice kiss’d it and smiled,
    Then triumphantly shook
  The boat by the rudder,
    The maid by the hair,
  With wailings and shrieks
    She bewilder’d the air;
  He flung her far seaward,
    Then sailed off to Larg—­
  There was mirth at the bridal
    Of young Sandy Harg.

New Monthly Magazine.

* * * * *

THE GATHERER.

  A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.

SHAKSPEARE.

* * * * *

LEGEND CONCERNING THE PRESERVATION OF THE WELSH PEDIGREES PREVIOUS TO THE FLOOD.

(For the Mirror.)

A figure was seen, standing on a precipice as the waters of the flood were rising, which waved its hand repeatedly—­the waters rose and the figure disappeared.  Noah, looking from the deck, was shortly afterwards hailed by the same person amidst the roar of the elements, “Quite full!” exclaimed the patriarch, as the ark lurched deeply.  “Full!” exclaimed the voice, which was now close alongside, “Ah!  Morgan Jones, is that you?” “We are quite full.”—­“Then take care of this packet; as for myself never mind, but take care of the packet.”  The packet was carefully handed aboard, the eyes of Morgan Jones saw the patriarch receive it into his own hands, when the huge ark gave a most terrific lurch, and hitting poor Morgan, he sunk under her counter, was thumped by the keel, and was seen no more; but the packet was received, and proved to be his pedigree from Adam!