Poems, on sacred and other subjects and songs, humorous and sentimental: By the late William Watt. Third edition of the songs only--with additional songs |
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The Hawk.
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 | Poems, on sacred and other subjects |  |
The Hawk.
The eve was clear, the air was still,
And, far beyond the dark-blue hill,
The sun nigh closed the day;
After the irksome hours of toil
I wander'd out, to pass the while,
Across the fields to stray.
And, far beyond the dark-blue hill,
The sun nigh closed the day;
After the irksome hours of toil
I wander'd out, to pass the while,
Across the fields to stray.
While gazing on the ample sky
A towering hawk I did espy
Poised o'er the verdant plain,
In quest to find his hapless prey;
But, after many a sharp essay,
All fruitless proved and vain.
A towering hawk I did espy
Poised o'er the verdant plain,
In quest to find his hapless prey;
But, after many a sharp essay,
All fruitless proved and vain.
Next, to a furzy copse he hied,
Where sweetly, in the even-tide,
A thrush did trill her lay;
Sweet was her strain as happy love,
Fix'd, never, never to remove
Till life's last parting day.
Where sweetly, in the even-tide,
A thrush did trill her lay;
Sweet was her strain as happy love,
Fix'd, never, never to remove
Till life's last parting day.
He long her mansion hover'd o'er,
And every op'ning did explore,
With eager wistful eye:
To raise her, down he quick did dart,
But from the gorse she would not start,
Nor from her seat would fly.
And every op'ning did explore,
With eager wistful eye:
To raise her, down he quick did dart,
But from the gorse she would not start,
Nor from her seat would fly.
She, startled, quit her dulcet song,
But sat the prickly shrubs among,
His ruthless claws to shun;
When thus he saw his efforts vain,
He homeward skimm'd along the plain,
Among the thick mist dun.
But sat the prickly shrubs among,
His ruthless claws to shun;
When thus he saw his efforts vain,
He homeward skimm'd along the plain,
Among the thick mist dun.
267
“Thou devil's emblem,” then said I,
“Quick to thy bloody dwelling hie,
To pine in hunger all night long—
Now safe's the mellow queen of song:
And sing, dear bird! I love the note
Pour'd from thy various warbling throat;
For dear to me's thy cheering lay,
At rising morn or closing day;
And may'st thou still escape the snares
Laid, thee to catch all unawares.”
“Quick to thy bloody dwelling hie,
To pine in hunger all night long—
Now safe's the mellow queen of song:
And sing, dear bird! I love the note
Pour'd from thy various warbling throat;
For dear to me's thy cheering lay,
At rising morn or closing day;
And may'st thou still escape the snares
Laid, thee to catch all unawares.”
| Poems, on sacred and other subjects | |