MARMION. INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST. TO WILLIAM STEWART ROSE, ESQ. Ashestiel, Ettrick Forest. NOVEMBER'S sky is chill and drear, November's leaf is red and sear: Late, gazing down the steepy linn You scarce the rivulet might ken, No longer Autumn's glowing red No more, beneath the evening beam, Away hath passed the heather-bell My imps, though hardy, bold, and wild, Yes, prattlers, yes. The daisy's flower Again shall paint your summer bower; Again the hawthorn shall supply The garlands you delight to tie; The lambs upon the lea shall bound, The wild birds carol to the round, And while you frolic light as they, Too short shall seem the summer day. To mute and to material things But oh! my country's wintry state Even on the meanest flower that blows; Nor mourn ye less his perished worth, Who, born to guide such high emprize, |