The Queen's Wake: A Legendary Poem

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W. Blackwood, 1815 - Electronic books - 362 pages
 

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Page 131 - They lifted Kilmeny, they led her away, And she walked in the light of a sunless day ; The sky was a dome of crystal bright, The fountain of vision, and fountain of light ; The emerald fields were of dazzling glow, And the flowers of everlasting blow. Then deep in the stream her body they laid, That her youth and beauty...
Page 131 - The loved of heaven, the spirits' care, That all whose minds unmeled remain Shall bloom in beauty when time is gane. . With distant music, soft and deep, They lulled Kilmeny sound asleep; And when she awakened, she lay her lane, All happed with flowers in the green-wood wene. When seven...
Page 131 - The corby left her houf in the rock ; The blackbird alang wi' the eagle flew ; The hind came tripping o'er the dew ; The wolf and the kid their raike began, And the tod, and the lamb, and the leveret ran ; The hawk and the hern attour them hung, And the...
Page 131 - All striped wi' the bars of the rainbow's rim ; And lovely beings round were rife, Who erst had travelled mortal life ; And aye they smiled, and 'gan to...
Page 131 - Kilmeny looked up with a lovely grace, But nae smile was seen on Kilmeny's face; As still was her look, and as still was her ee, As the stillness that lay on the emerant lea, Or the mist that sleeps on a waveless sea.
Page 131 - And goved around, charmed and amazed; Even the dull cattle crooned and gazed, And murmured and looked with anxious pain For something the mystery to explain. The buzzard came with the throstle-cock; The corby left her houf in the rock; The blackbird alang wi...
Page 130 - The wood was sere, the moon i' the wane, The reek o' the cot hung over the plain, Like a little wee cloud in the world its lane ; When the ingle lowed with an eiry leme, Late, late in the gloamin...
Page 223 - O could the bard I loved so long, Reprove my fond aspiring song ! Or could his tongue of candour say, That I should throw my harp away ! Just when her notes began with skill To sound beneath the southern hill, And twine around my bosom's core, How could we part for evermore ! 'Twas kindness all, I cannot blame, For bootless is the minstrel flame ; But sure a bard might well have known Another's feelings by his own...
Page 131 - The eagle sought her eiry again ; But lang may she cower in her bloody nest, And lang, lang sleek her wounded breast, Before she sey another flight, To play wi
Page 131 - And keeped afar frae the haunts of men ; Her holy hymns unheard to sing, To suck the flowers, and drink the spring But wherever her peaceful form appeared, The wild beasts of the hill were cheered ; The wolf played...

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