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 Works of The Ettrick Shepherd |  |
Loud blew the blast—the evening came,
The way was long, the minstrel lame;
The mountain's side was dern with oak,
Darkened with pine, and ribbed with rock;
Blue billows round its base were driven,
Its top was steeped in waves of heaven.
The wood, the wind, the billows' moan,
All spoke in language of their own,
But too well to our minstrel known.
Wearied, bewildered, in amaze,
Hymning in heart the Virgin's praise,
A cross he framed, of birchen bough,
And 'neath that cross he laid him low;
Hid by the heath and Highland plaid,
His old harp in his bosom laid.
Oh! when the winds that wandered by,
Sung on her breast their lullaby,
How thrilled the tones his bosom through,
And deeper, holier, poured his vow!
The way was long, the minstrel lame;
The mountain's side was dern with oak,
Darkened with pine, and ribbed with rock;
Blue billows round its base were driven,
Its top was steeped in waves of heaven.
The wood, the wind, the billows' moan,
All spoke in language of their own,
But too well to our minstrel known.
Wearied, bewildered, in amaze,
Hymning in heart the Virgin's praise,
A cross he framed, of birchen bough,
And 'neath that cross he laid him low;
Hid by the heath and Highland plaid,
His old harp in his bosom laid.
Oh! when the winds that wandered by,
Sung on her breast their lullaby,
How thrilled the tones his bosom through,
And deeper, holier, poured his vow!
| The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd | |