Category: Poetry
_An angler to an angler here, To one who longed not for the bays, I bring a little gift and dear, A line of love, a word of praise, A common memory of the ways, By Elibank and Yair that lead; Of all the burns, from all the braes, That yield their tribute to the Tweed.
_An angler to an angler here, To one who longed not for the bays, I bring a little gift and dear, A line of love, a word of praise, A common memory of the ways, By Elibank and Y...
2. Chapter 2And either slept not through the live-long night, Or slept in fitful trances, with a bright, Fair dream upon their eyelids: but they rose In sorrow from the pallet of repose; Fo...
3. Chapter 3And ever he did look upon the corse With idiot visage, like the hag Remorse That gloateth over on a nameless deed Of darkness and of dole unhistoried. And were there that might...
4. Chapter 4There is a cave upon that isle--a cave Where dwelt a hermit man; the winter wave Roll'd to its entrance, casting a bright mound Of snowy shells and fairy pebbles round; And over...
5. Chapter 5Spirit! I breathe no sad adieu: The altars where thou bendest never knew Sigh, tear, or sorrow, and the night No chariot drives behind the wheel of light; Where every seraph is...