 | Poems by William Stanley Roscoe |  |
104
SONG OF THE FALLEN STUART.
How sweet the fair ey'd ruddy morn
Breathes o'er my cold and desart cave,
Soft dews the budding trees adorn,
And gently flows the ocean wave!
Breathes o'er my cold and desart cave,
Soft dews the budding trees adorn,
And gently flows the ocean wave!
I shelter in the bowery aik,
And mark the gaudy flowers of spring,
And see the sun the birds awake,
That carol high on mounting wing.
And mark the gaudy flowers of spring,
And see the sun the birds awake,
That carol high on mounting wing.
But oh! the dawning of the day,
It brings nae beam of joy to me,
Sine I have tint the bloody fray,
And fallen in my destiny!
It brings nae beam of joy to me,
Sine I have tint the bloody fray,
And fallen in my destiny!
105
Amid the glens of wild Moray
The hunter starts me with his spear,
Along the forest's tangled way
The English rover's shout I hear!
The hunter starts me with his spear,
Along the forest's tangled way
The English rover's shout I hear!
| Poems by William Stanley Roscoe | |