The Queen's Wake: A Legendary Poem

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W. Blackwood, 1819 - English poetry - 384 pages

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Page 175 - 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 191 - It was like an eve in a sinless world! When a month and a day had come and gane, Kilmeny sought the green-wood wene ; There laid her down on the leaves sae green, And Kilmeny on earth was never mair seen!
Page 188 - To tell of the place where she had been, And the glories that lay in the land unseen ; To warn the living maidens fair, The loved of Heaven, the spirits' care, That all whose minds unmeled remain Shall bloom in beauty when time is gane.
Page 189 - Her seymar was the lily flower, And her cheek the moss-rose in the shower ; And her voice like the distant melodye, That floats along the twilight sea.
Page 177 - 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 180 - They lifted Kilmeny, they led her away. And she walked in the light of a sunless day: The sky was a dome of erystal 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.
Page 188 - Kilmeny came hame ! And O, her beauty was fair to see, But still and steadfast was her ee ! Such beauty bard may never declare, For there was no pride nor passion there ; And the soft desire of maiden's een In that mild face could never be seen.
Page 148 - ... That the pine, which for ages had shed a bright halo, Afar on the mountains of Highland Glen-Falo, Should wither and fall ere the turn of yon moon, Smit through by the canker of hated Colquhoun : That a feast on Macgregors each day should be common. For years, to the eagles of Lennox and Lomond. A parting embrace, in one moment, she gave : Her breath was a furnace, her bosom the grave ! Then flitting elusive, she said, with a frown, " The mighty Macgregor shall yet be my own !" — " Macgregor,...
Page 178 - O, blest be the day Kilmeny was born! Now shall the land of the spirits see, Now shall it ken what a woman may be!
Page 176 - 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.

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