Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain;...
"What, you are stepping westward?" "Yea." 'Twould be a 'wildish' destiny, If we, who thus together roam In a strange Land, and far from home, Were in this place the guests of Chance:...
Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower Of beauty is thy earthly dower! Twice seven consenting years have shed Their utmost bounty on thy head: And these grey rocks; that household lawn;...
Now we are tired of boisterous joy, Have romped enough, my little Boy! Jane hangs her head upon my breast, And you shall bring your stool and rest; This corner is your own. ...
And is this, Yarrow? 'This' the Stream Of which my fancy cherished, So faithfully, a waking dream? An image that hath perished! O that some Minstrel's harp were near, To utter notes of gladness,...
In this still place, remote from men, Sleeps Ossian, in the NARROW GLEN; In this still place, where murmurs on But one meek streamlet, only one: He sang of battles, and the breath...
A winged Goddess, clothed in vesture wrought Of rainbow colours; One whose port was bold, Whose overburthened hand could scarcely hold The glittering crowns and garlands which it brought...
What lovelier home could gentle Fancy choose? Is this the stream, whose cities, heights, and plains, War's favourite playground, are with crimson stains Familiar, as the Morn with pearly dews?...
Was it to disenchant, and to undo, That we approached the Seat of Charlemaine? To sweep from many an old romantic strain That faith which no devotion may renew! Why does this puny Church present to view...
Amid this dance of objects sadness steals O'er the defrauded heart while sweeping by, As in a fit of Thespian jollity, Beneath her vine-leaf crown the green Earth reels:...
O for the help of Angels to complete This Temple, Angels governed by a plan Thus far pursued (how gloriously!) by Man, Studious that He might not disdain the seat Who dwells in heaven! But that aspiring heat...
I listen, but no faculty of mine Avails those modulations to detect, Which, heard in foreign lands, the Swiss affect With tenderest passion; leaving him to pine...
To appease the Gods; or public thanks to yield; Or to solicit knowledge of events, Which in her breast Futurity concealed; And that the past might have its true intents Feelingly told by living monuments...
Where be the noisy followers of the game Which faction breeds; the turmoil where? that passed Through Europe, echoing from the newsman's blast, And filled our hearts with grief for England's shame....
Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Greece, Long since, saw Byron's struggle cease. But one such death remain'd to come; The last poetic voice is dumb We stand to-day by Wordsworth's tomb. ...
A life more bright than the sun's face, bowed Through stress of season and coil of cloud, Sets: and the sorrow that casts out fear Scarce deems him dead in his chill still shroud,...
A storm was coming, but the winds were still, And in the wild woods of Broceliande, Before an oak, so hollow, huge and old It looked a tower of ivied masonwork, At Merlin's feet the wily Vivien lay. ...
Me tho' in life's sequester'd vale The Almighty sire ordain'd to dwell, Remote from glory's toilsome ways, And the great scenes of public praise; Yet let me still with grateful pride...
Portentous change when History can appear As the cool Advocate of foul device; Reckless audacity extol, and jeer At consciences perplexed with scruples nice! They who bewail not, must abhor, the sneer...