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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Scene IV.
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 | The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd |  |
Scene IV.
—A deep dell.Knight sitting disconsolate.
Knight.
Sure there's some power unseen, unmeet for man
To cope with, watches o'er that witching thing.
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Flat without motion; next to slough decoyed,
Bayed by a madman—by a blood-hound torn.
If I escape infection from the fangs
Of that outrageous monster, I shall never
Strive for possession of that maiden more,
Though my heart burn within me.
Spirit enters, and speaks and sings aside.
Spirit.
Then my sport will all be done:
Knight, before the rising sun,
Wet and weary, racked with pain,
You shall seek that maid again.
Sings.
Knight, before the rising sun,
Wet and weary, racked with pain,
You shall seek that maid again.
My love's blithe as the bird on the tree;
My love's bonnie, as bonnie can be;
Though she loves another far better than me,
Yet the dream wears kind in the morning.
My love's bonnie, as bonnie can be;
Though she loves another far better than me,
Yet the dream wears kind in the morning.
Then I will steal to my love's bed-side,
And I will kiss my bonnie, bonnie bride;
And I'll whisper a vow, whatever betide,
To my little flower in the morning.
And I will kiss my bonnie, bonnie bride;
And I'll whisper a vow, whatever betide,
To my little flower in the morning.
Her breath is as sweet as the fragrant shower
Of dew that is blown from the rowan-tree flower;
Oh, ne'er were the sweets of roseate bower,
Like my love's cheeks in the morning!
Of dew that is blown from the rowan-tree flower;
Oh, ne'er were the sweets of roseate bower,
Like my love's cheeks in the morning!
Her eye is the blue-bell of the spring,
Her hair is the fleece of the raven's wing;
To her bonnie breast oh how I'll cling,
While sleeping so sound in the morning!
Her hair is the fleece of the raven's wing;
To her bonnie breast oh how I'll cling,
While sleeping so sound in the morning!
Enter Lu and Fairies.
Lu.
Fairies, the night wears on apace;
There's a paleness spread on the heaven's face,
A silvery haze so mild to see,
As lambent and as pure as we.
Soon will we mount with blithesome sway
Through these bright paths on our spiral way,
On the locks of the morning star to swing,
Or the veil of the sky for dew to wring;
To gallop the blue so lightsome and boon,
Or braid the fair tresses of beauty so bright,
That wanton and wave at the horns of the moon,
They are half of them ether, and half of them light.
But ere we depart from the morning ray,
To follow the moonlight west away,
O spirits, advise what shall be done,
This loveliest flower beneath the sun,
From shame, from sin, and from sorrow to win.
Dew.
Bear her away,
'Twixt the night and the day;
We spirits have might
When we work for the right,
And each of us as much can bear
Of aught corporeal through the air,
As the swallow can carry on wing opprest,
Or the merle upbear to her downy nest.
Then bear her away
'Twixt the night and the day,
For she is too pure in the world to stay.
Lu.
That may not be—by right divine,
In holy church and at holy shrine,
She has been washed with prayer and vow,
And named by a name to which we bow:
Or she must change with free good-will,
Or be as she is for good or for ill.
Should I her gain, say, shall she be
The Queen of the Fairies, and queen to me?
Dew.
Treason and pain!
Speak not again;
Trial and penance must long remain!
Bonnie Philany, Snowflake, and Foam,
Rainbow, Rainbow, blink and go home!
Phil.
(Aside).
Regard not, prince, that freakish thing,
From jealousy her ravings spring;
One we must have, whatever befall;
To-morrow is our great festival,
And nought but mortal virgin's hand
Must crown thee King of Fairyland;
And then thy fate is fixed for ever,
From us and ours no more to sever.
Lu.
Would that the time were not so soon!
It is not yet the wane of the moon.
Phil.
Prince, I have a word to say to thee—
Your troubled mind and eye I see;
But if you dare to harbour a thought
Of yielding a crown so dearly bought,
With all the joys of the moonlight dell,
And the fervent beings that love you so well,
For the sake of a flower that will soon decay,
A piece of fair well-moulded clay,
We'll pick these bright eyes from your head,
And there we'll fix two eyes of lead;
We'll pull the heart from thy breast-bone,
And there we'll lodge a heart of stone:
So take thou care, lest some espy
The thoughts that in thy bosom lie.
Lu.
Sweet friendly fay, 'tis all too true;
Nor thought nor wish I'll hide from you:
Either that maiden here I must have,
Or return to the world, to death, and the grave.
Oh, haste thee, Snowflake, haste and glide
To yon little cot by the greenwood side,
And watch yon maid till the break of day,
For I hear the watch-dog's angry bay:
Watch by her pillow, and look to her bed,
For I fear that beauty is hard bested.
Nor thought nor wish I'll hide from you:
Either that maiden here I must have,
Or return to the world, to death, and the grave.
Oh, haste thee, Snowflake, haste and glide
To yon little cot by the greenwood side,
And watch yon maid till the break of day,
For I hear the watch-dog's angry bay:
Watch by her pillow, and look to her bed,
For I fear that beauty is hard bested.
Then hie you away, fairies, hie you away!
Lean to the breeze, and ride in array
Over the land and the sea so fleet;
Over the rain, and the hail, and the sleet;
Keep aye the sun far under your feet,
The morning behind and the stars by your side,
The moonbeam your path, and her crescent your guide;
For oh, her mild and humid flame
Suits best with the fairy's airy frame!
And meet we again to-morrow at even,
When the first star peeps through the veil of heaven;
And here such a palace of light shall be
As the world ne'er saw and never will see:
For there shall be lamps and glories in store,
And a thousand stars and a thousand more;
And there shall the ruby and onyx be seen,
The amethyst blue, and the emerald green,
With millions of gems of varied flame,
That have no likeness and have no name.
And our columns shall reach to the middle sky,
And the throne shall stand as the pine tree high;
Soft music shall flow of the spheres above,
The songs of gladness and songs of love;
And our feast shall begin with glory and glee—
But little we know what the end shall be!
Lean to the breeze, and ride in array
Over the land and the sea so fleet;
Over the rain, and the hail, and the sleet;
Keep aye the sun far under your feet,
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The moonbeam your path, and her crescent your guide;
For oh, her mild and humid flame
Suits best with the fairy's airy frame!
And meet we again to-morrow at even,
When the first star peeps through the veil of heaven;
And here such a palace of light shall be
As the world ne'er saw and never will see:
For there shall be lamps and glories in store,
And a thousand stars and a thousand more;
And there shall the ruby and onyx be seen,
The amethyst blue, and the emerald green,
With millions of gems of varied flame,
That have no likeness and have no name.
And our columns shall reach to the middle sky,
And the throne shall stand as the pine tree high;
Soft music shall flow of the spheres above,
The songs of gladness and songs of love;
And our feast shall begin with glory and glee—
But little we know what the end shall be!
Song.
Oh weel befa' the guileless heart
In cottage, bught, or pen!
And weel befa' the bonnie May
That wons in yonder glen;
Wha loes the good and true sae weel—
Wha's aye sae kind and aye sae leal,
And pure as blooming asphodel
Amang sae mony men;
Oh weel befa' the bonnie thing
That wons in yonder glen.
In cottage, bught, or pen!
And weel befa' the bonnie May
That wons in yonder glen;
Wha loes the good and true sae weel—
Wha's aye sae kind and aye sae leal,
And pure as blooming asphodel
Amang sae mony men;
Oh weel befa' the bonnie thing
That wons in yonder glen.
There's beauty in the violet's vest,
There's hinny in the haw,
There's dew within the rose's breast,
The sweetest o' them a'.
The sun may rise and set again,
And lace wi' burning gowd the main,
The rainbow bend attour the plain
Sae lovely to the ken;
But there's naething like my bonnie thing
That wons in yonder glen.
There's hinny in the haw,
There's dew within the rose's breast,
The sweetest o' them a'.
The sun may rise and set again,
And lace wi' burning gowd the main,
The rainbow bend attour the plain
Sae lovely to the ken;
But there's naething like my bonnie thing
That wons in yonder glen.
'Tis sweet to hear the music float
Alang the gloaming lea;
'Tis sweet to hear the blackbird's note
Come pealing frae the tree;
To see the lambkin's lightsome race;
The speckled kid in wanton chase;
The young deer cower in lonely place
Deep in his flowery den;
But what is like the bonnie face
That smiles in yonder glen!
Alang the gloaming lea;
'Tis sweet to hear the blackbird's note
Come pealing frae the tree;
To see the lambkin's lightsome race;
The speckled kid in wanton chase;
The young deer cower in lonely place
Deep in his flowery den;
But what is like the bonnie face
That smiles in yonder glen!
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