As doth a fly upon a summer brook; Seek for him, he is fled; and whither none can say. Thus often would he leave our peaceful home, His voice came to us from the neighbouring height: At mid-day, when the sun was shining bright; Ah! piteous sight it was to see this man Down would he sit; and without strength or power Great wonder to our gentle tribe it was Than he had, being here the long day through. Some thought he was a lover, and did woo: Some thought far worse of him, and judged him wrong. But verse was what he had been wedded to; And his own mind did like a tempest strong Come to him thus, and drove the weary wight along. With him there often walked in friendly guise. Or lay upon the moss by brook or tree, Yet some did think that he had little business here: Sweet heaven forfend! his was a lawful right; Noisy he was, and gamesome as a boy; His limbs would toss about him with delight, He would have taught you how you might employ Expedients, too, of simplest sort he tried: Long blades of grass, plucked round him as he lay, Made to his ear attentively applied A pipe on which the wind would deftly play- A mailed angel on a battle-day; And cups of flowers, and herbage green and gold; He would entice that other man to hear And, sooth, these two did love each other dear, As far as love in such a place could be; There did they dwell-from earthly labour free, If but a bird, to keep them company, Or butterfly sate down, they were, I ween, As pleased as if the same had been a maiden queen. VI. ELLEN IRWIN; OR, THE BRAES OF KIRTLE.* FAIR Ellen Irwin, when she sate Upon the Braes of Kirtle, Was lovely as a Grecian maid Adorned with wreaths of myrtle. Young Adam Bruce beside her lay; And there did they beguile the day From many knights and many squires And Gordon, fairest of them all, By Ellen was rejected. Sad tidings to that noble youth! For it may be proclaimed with truth, That Gordon loves as dearly. But what is Gordon's beauteous face, And what are Gordon's crosses To them who sit by Kirtle's Braes Upon the verdant mosses? Alas that ever he was born! The Gordon, couched behind a thorn, Sees them and their caressing, Beholds them blest and blessing. The Kirtle is a river in the southern part of Scotland, on whose banks the events here related took place. Proud Gordon cannot bear the thoughts The youth, her chosen lover. And, falling into Bruce's arms, And Bruce, as soon as he had slain But many days, and many months, This wretched knight did vainly seek And there his sorrow ended. Now ye, who willingly have heard By Ellen's side the Bruce is laid; And, for the stone upon his head, And its forlorn HIC JACET. VII. STRANGE fits of passion I have known: And I will dare to tell, But in the lover's ear alone, What once to me befell. When she I loved was strong and gay, And like a rose in June, I to her cottage bent my way, Beneath the evening moon. Upon the moon I fixed my eye, My horse trudged on-and we drew nigh And now we reached the orchard plot; In one of those sweet dreams I slept, My horse moved on; hoof after hoof What fond and wayward thoughts will slide Into a lover's head! "O mercy!" to myself I cried, "If Lucy should be dead!" VIII. SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways A maid whom there were none to praise, A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! Fair as a star, when only one She lived unknown, and few could know But she is in her grave, and, oh, IX. I TRAVELLED among unknown men, 'Tis past, that melancholy dream! |