 | The Poetical Works of David Macbeth Moir |  |
I.
There is a stillness on the night;Glimmers the ghastly moonshine white
On Learmonth's woods, and Leader's streams,
Till Earth looks like a land of dreams:
Up in the arch of heaven afar,
Receded looks each little star,
And meteor flashes faintly play
By fits along the Milky Way.
Upon me in this eerie hush,
A thousand wild emotions rush,
As, gazing spell-bound o'er the scene,
Beside thy haunted walls I lean,
Grey Ercildoune, and feel the Past
His charmëd mantle o'er me cast;
162
Bear o'er the fancy wizard sway,
And call up the traditions told
Of him who sojourned here of old.
| The Poetical Works of David Macbeth Moir | |