Sir Walter Scott Poems

Hear what Highland Nora said, -
'The Earlie's son I will not wed,
Should all the race of nature die,
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Proud Maisie is in the wood,
Walking so early;
Sweet Robin sits on the bush,
Singing so rarely.
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Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking:
Dream of battled fields no more,
Days of danger, nights of waking.
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TO mute and to material things
New life revolving summer brings;
The genial call dead Nature hears,
And in her glory reappears.
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As lords their labourers' hire delay,
Fate quits our toil with hopes to come,
Which, if far short of present pay,
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O lovers’ eyes are sharp to see,
And lovers’ ears in hearing;
And love, in life’s extremity,
Can lend an hour of cheering.
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The Abbot on the threshold stood,
And in his hand the holy rood:
Then, cloaking hate with fiery zeal,
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Farewell! Farewell! the voice you hear,
Has left its last soft tone with you,-
Its next must join the seaward cheer,
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The glowing censers, and their rich perfume;
The splendid vestments, and the sounding choir;
The gentle sigh of soul-subduing piety;
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The herring loves the merry moon-light,
The mackerel loves the wind,
But the oyster loves the dredging sang,
For they come of a gentle kind.
...