The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd Centenary Edition. With a Memoir of the Author, by the Rev. Thomas Thomson ... Poems and Life. With Many Illustrative Engravings [by James Hogg] |
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The Flower.
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 | The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd |  |
The Flower.
Oh, softly blow, thou biting blast,
O'er Yarrow's lonely dale;
And spare yon bonny tender bud,
Exposed to every gale.
O'er Yarrow's lonely dale;
And spare yon bonny tender bud,
Exposed to every gale.
Long has she hung her drooping head,
Despairing to survive,
But transient sunbeams through the cloud
Still kept my flower alive.
Despairing to survive,
But transient sunbeams through the cloud
Still kept my flower alive.
One sweetly scented summer eve,
To yonder bower I strayed,
While little birds from every bough,
Their music wild conveyed:
To yonder bower I strayed,
While little birds from every bough,
Their music wild conveyed:
The sunbeam leaned across the shower;
The rainbow girt the sky;
'Twas then I saw this lovely flower,
And wonder filled mine eye.
The rainbow girt the sky;
'Twas then I saw this lovely flower,
And wonder filled mine eye.
Her cheek was then the ruddy dawn,
Stolen from the rising sun;
The whitest feather from the swan
On her fair breast was dun.
Stolen from the rising sun;
The whitest feather from the swan
On her fair breast was dun.
Her mould of modest dignity,
Was form'd the heart to win;
The dew-drop glistening in her eye
Showed all was pure within.
Was form'd the heart to win;
The dew-drop glistening in her eye
Showed all was pure within.
But frost on cold misfortune borne,
Hath crush'd her in the clay;
And ruthless fate hath rudely torn
Each kindred branch away.
Hath crush'd her in the clay;
And ruthless fate hath rudely torn
Each kindred branch away.
That wounded stem will never close,
But bleeding still remain:
Relentless winds, how can ye blow,
And nip my flower again?
But bleeding still remain:
Relentless winds, how can ye blow,
And nip my flower again?
| The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd | |