If any star shed peace, ‘tis thou,
That send ‘st it from above,
Appearing when Heaven’s breath and brow
Are sweet as hers we love.
Come to the luxuriant skies,
Whilst the landscape’s odours rise,
Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard,
And songs when toil is done,
From cottages whose smoke unstirr’d
Curls yellow in the sun.
Star of love’s soft interviews.
Parted lovers on thee muse;
Their remembrancer in heaven
Of thrilling vows thou art,
Too delicious to be riven
By absence from the heart.
She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies,Smiles on her slumb’ring child with pensive eyes,And weaves a song of melancholy joy:-‘Sleep, image of thy father! – sleep, my boy!No ling’ring hour of sorrow shall be thine,No sigh that rends thy father’s heart and mine.Bright, as his manly sire, the son shall be,In form and soul; but,…
For his country he sign’d, when at twilight repairingTo wander alone by the wind-beaten hill.But the day-star attracted his eye’s sad devotion,For it rose o’er his own native isle fo the ocean,Where once, in the fire of his youthful emotion.He sang the bold anthem of Erin Go Bragh!‘Sad is my fate!’- said the heart-broken stranger…
Although the wild-flower on thy ruin’d wall,And roofless homes, a sad remembrance bring,Of what thy gentle people did befall;Yet thou wert once the loveliest land of allThat see the Atlantic wave their morn restore.Sweet land! may I thy lost delights recall,And paint thy Gertrude in her bowers of yore,Whose beauty was the love of Pennsylvania’s…
– Lochiel! Lochiel, beware of the dayWhen the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array!For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight,And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight:They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown;Woe, woe to the riders that trample them down!Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain,And their…
And I’ll give thee a silver poundTo row us o’er the ferry!”–“Now, who be ye, would cross Lochgyle,This dark and stormy weather?”“O, I’m the chief of Ulva’s isle,And this, Lord Ullin’s daughter.–“And fast before her father’s menThree days we’ve fled together,For should he find us in the glen,My blood would stain the heather.“His horsemen hard…
When forth a valiant champion bounded,And slew the slanderer of her fame.She wept, delivered from her danger;But when he knelt to claim her glove-‘Seek not!’ she cried, ‘oh, gallant stranger,For hapless Adelgitha’s love.For he is dead and in a foreign landWhose arm should now have set me free;And I must wear the willow garlandFor him…
