 | Lyrical Poems |  |
159
INVITATION.
Not by Leman's lovely lake,
Or Italy far away,
Where the jocund Sun doth make
Perpetual holiday;
Not in fair and festal Rome,
Or where Venice airy
Piles the palace and the dome
On her waters fairy;
On my own, my Scottish braes,
Where the tall pine darkly sways,
O'er the fresh and purple heather
Green-bedappled with the fern,
Fondly, while we stray together,
I will teach, if thou wilt learn,
To love, sweet maid, to love!
Or Italy far away,
Where the jocund Sun doth make
Perpetual holiday;
Not in fair and festal Rome,
Or where Venice airy
Piles the palace and the dome
On her waters fairy;
On my own, my Scottish braes,
Where the tall pine darkly sways,
O'er the fresh and purple heather
Green-bedappled with the fern,
Fondly, while we stray together,
I will teach, if thou wilt learn,
To love, sweet maid, to love!
160
Freshly blows the Autumn breeze
High over Clach-na-Ben,
Fragrant wave the birchen trees
At Dye-brig, low in the glen.
There, if thou with me wilt stray,
Bird in April weather
Never was merrier on the spray
Than we shall be together.
Yes, fair maiden, thou wilt go!
Such sweet silence ne'er meant NO.
Thus my faithful fancy guesses
These bright eyes might ne'er look stern,
And who owns these golden tresses,
She can teach, as well as learn,
To love, sweet maid, to love!
High over Clach-na-Ben,
Fragrant wave the birchen trees
At Dye-brig, low in the glen.
There, if thou with me wilt stray,
Bird in April weather
Never was merrier on the spray
Than we shall be together.
Yes, fair maiden, thou wilt go!
Such sweet silence ne'er meant NO.
Thus my faithful fancy guesses
These bright eyes might ne'er look stern,
And who owns these golden tresses,
She can teach, as well as learn,
To love, sweet maid, to love!
| Lyrical Poems | |