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A voice as of the cherub-choir
Gales from blooming Eden bear,
And distant warblings lessen on my ear That lost in long futurity expire. Fond impious man, think'st thou yon sanguine cloud
Raised by thy breath, has quench'd the orb of day? To-morrow he repairs the golden flood
And warms the nations with redoubled ray. Enough for me : with joy I see
The different doom our fates assign: Be thine Despair and sceptred Care ;
To triumph and to die are mine." -He spoke, and headlong from the mountain's
height Deep in the roaring tide he plunged to endless night.
124. ODE WRITTEN IN MDCCXLVI.
How sleep the Brave, who sink to rest
By fairy hands their knell is rung,
125. LAMENT FOR CULLODEN.
The lovely lass o’ Inverness,
Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay,
126. LAMENT FOR FLODDEN.
I've heard them lilting at our ewe-milking,
Lasses a' lilting before dawn o' day;
The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away,
At bughts, in the morning, nae blythe lads are
scorning, Lasses are lonely and dowie and wae ; Nae daffin', nae gabbin', but sighing and sabbing,
Ilk ane lifts her leglin and hies her away.
In har'st, at the shearing, nae youths now are jeering,
Bandsters are lyart, and runkled, and gray ;
At fair or at preaching, nae wooing, nae fleeching
The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.
At e'en, in the gloaming, nae younkers are roaming
'Bout stacks wi' the lasses at bogle to play ; But ilk ane sits drearie, lamenting her dearie
The Flowers of the Forest are weded away.
Dool and wae for the order, sent our lads to the
Border ! The English, for ance, by guile wan the day ; The Flowers of the Forest, that fought aye the fore
most, The prime of our land, are cauld in the clay.
We'll hear nae mair lilting at the ewe-milking:
Women and bairns are heartless and wae ; Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaningThe Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.
127. THE BRAES OF YARROW.
Thy braes were bonny, Yarrow stream,
He promised me a milk-white steed
He promised me a wedding-ring,-
Sweet were his words when last we met ;
His mother from the window look'd
No longer from thy window look
The tear shall never leave my cheek,
-The tear did never leave her cheek,
128. WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW.
Down in yon garden sweet and gay
Where bonnie grows the lily, I heard a fair maid sighing say
My wish be wi' sweet Willie !
“ Willie's rare, and Willie's fair,
And Willie's wondrous bonny ; And Willie hecht to marry me
Gin e'er he married ony.
“O gentle wind, that bloweth south,
From where my Love repaireth, Convey a kiss frae his dear mouth
And tell me how he fareth !
“O tell sweet Willie to come doua
And hear the mavis singing, And see the birds on ilka bush
And leaves around them hinging.
“The lav'rock there, wi' her white breast
And gentle throat sae narrow; There's sport eneuch for gentlemen
On Leader haughs and Yarrow.
"O Leader haughs are wide and braid
And Yarrow haughs are bonny; There Willie hecht to marry me
If e'er he married ony.