Ellen Gray or, The dead maiden's curse. A poem, by the late Dr. Archibald Macleod [i.e. W. L. Bowles] |
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 | Ellen Gray |  |
More cheerful came the sunshine of May-morn,
The bee from earliest light had wound his horn,
Busiest from flower to flower, as he would say,
“Up! Ellen! for it is the morn of May!”
The lads and lasses of the hamlet bore
Branches of blossom'd thorn or sycamore ;
And at her mother's porch a garland hung,
While thus their rustic roundelay they sung:—
“To fetch the summer home,
“The summer and the May,
“For summer now is come.”
And wave to Zephyr's stirring breath:
The cuckoo sings in Morval coombe,
O'er Penron spreads the purple heath .
We'll weave a crown of flowrets gay,
And Ellen of the brook shall be
Our Lady of the May.
The bee from earliest light had wound his horn,
Busiest from flower to flower, as he would say,
“Up! Ellen! for it is the morn of May!”
The lads and lasses of the hamlet bore
Branches of blossom'd thorn or sycamore ;
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While thus their rustic roundelay they sung:—
MAY SONG.
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“And we were up as soon as day ,“To fetch the summer home,
“The summer and the May,
“For summer now is come.”
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In Madern vale the bell-flow'rs bloom ,And wave to Zephyr's stirring breath:
The cuckoo sings in Morval coombe,
O'er Penron spreads the purple heath .
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3
Come, dance around Glen-Alston tree,We'll weave a crown of flowrets gay,
And Ellen of the brook shall be
Our Lady of the May.
| Ellen Gray | |