Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50)

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Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50) Page 154

by Homer


  Dream of fighting fields no more;

  Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,

  Morn of toil, nor night of waking.

  ‘No rude sound shall reach thine ear,

  Armor’s clang or war-steed champing

  Trump nor pibroch summon here

  Mustering clan or squadron tramping.

  Yet the lark’s shrill fife may come

  At the daybreak from the fallow,

  And the bittern sound his drum

  Booming from the sedgy shallow.

  Ruder sounds shall none be near,

  Guards nor warders challenge here,

  Here’s no war-steed’s neigh and champing,

  Shouting clans or squadrons stamping.’

  XXXII.

  She paused, — then, blushing, led the lay,

  To grace the stranger of the day.

  Her mellow notes awhile prolong

  The cadence of the flowing song,

  Till to her lips in measured frame

  The minstrel verse spontaneous came.

  Song Continued.

  ‘Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done;

  While our slumbrous spells assail ye,

  Dream not, with the rising sun,

  Bugles here shall sound reveille.

  Sleep! the deer is in his den;

  Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying;

  Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen

  How thy gallant steed lay dying.

  Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done;

  Think not of the rising sun,

  For at dawning to assail ye

  Here no bugles sound reveille.’

  XXXIII.

  The hall was cleared, — the stranger’s bed,

  Was there of mountain heather spread,

  Where oft a hundred guests had lain,

  And dreamed their forest sports again.

  But vainly did the heath-flower shed

  Its moorland fragrance round his head;

  Not Ellen’s spell had lulled to rest

  The fever of his troubled breast.

  In broken dreams the image rose

  Of varied perils, pains, and woes:

  His steed now flounders in the brake,

  Now sinks his barge upon the lake;

  Now leader of a broken host,

  His standard falls, his honor’s lost.

  Then, — from my couch may heavenly might

  Chase that worst phantom of the night! —

  Again returned the scenes of youth,

  Of confident, undoubting truth;

  Again his soul he interchanged

  With friends whose hearts were long estranged.

  They come, in dim procession led,

  The cold, the faithless, and the dead;

  As warm each hand, each brow as gay,

  As if they parted yesterday.

  And doubt distracts him at the view, —

  O were his senses false or true?

  Dreamed he of death or broken vow,

  Or is it all a vision now?

  XXXIV.

  At length, with Ellen in a grove

  He seemed to walk and speak of love;

  She listened with a blush and sigh,

  His suit was warm, his hopes were high.

  He sought her yielded hand to clasp,

  And a cold gauntlet met his grasp:

  The phantom’s sex was changed and gone,

  Upon its head a helmet shone;

  Slowly enlarged to giant size,

  With darkened cheek and threatening eyes,

  The grisly visage, stern and hoar,

  To Ellen still a likeness bore. —

  He woke, and, panting with affright,

  Recalled the vision of the night.

  The hearth’s decaying brands were red

  And deep and dusky lustre shed,

  Half showing, half concealing, all

  The uncouth trophies of the hall.

  Mid those the stranger fixed his eye

  Where that huge falchion hung on high,

  And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng,

  Rushed, chasing countless thoughts along,

  Until, the giddy whirl to cure,

  He rose and sought the moonshine pure.

  XXXV.

  The wild rose, eglantine, and broom

  Wasted around their rich perfume;

  The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm;

  The aspens slept beneath the calm;

  The silver light, with quivering glance,

  Played on the water’s still expanse, —

  Wild were the heart whose passion’s sway

  Could rage beneath the sober ray!

  He felt its calm, that warrior guest,

  While thus he communed with his breast: —

  ‘Why is it, at each turn I trace

  Some memory of that exiled race?

  Can I not mountain maiden spy,

  But she must bear the Douglas eye?

  Can I not view a Highland brand,

  But it must match the Douglas hand?

  Can I not frame a fevered dream,

  But still the Douglas is the theme?

  I’ll dream no more, — by manly mind

  Not even in sleep is will resigned.

  My midnight orisons said o’er,

  I’ll turn to rest, and dream no more.’

  His midnight orisons he told,

  A prayer with every bead of gold,

  Consigned to heaven his cares and woes,

  And sunk in undisturbed repose,

  Until the heath-cock shrilly crew,

  And morning dawned on Benvenue.

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  The Outlaw

  Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832)

  O BRIGNALL banks are wild and fair,

  And Greta woods are green,

  And you may gather garlands there

  Would grace a summer-queen.

  And as I rode by Dalton-Hall 5

  Beneath the turrets high,

  A Maiden on the castle-wall

  Was singing merrily:

  ‘O Brignall Banks are fresh and fair,

  And Greta woods are green; 10

  I’d rather rove with Edmund there

  Than reign our English queen.’

  ‘If, Maiden, thou wouldst wend with me,

  To leave both tower and town,

  Thou first must guess what life lead we 15

  That dwell by dale and down.

  And if thou canst that riddle read,

  As read full well you may,

  Then to the greenwood shalt thou speed

  As blithe as Queen of May.’ 20

  Yet sung she, ‘Brignall banks are fair,

  And Greta woods are green;

  I’d rather rove with Edmund there

  Than reign our English queen.

  ‘I read you, by your bugle-horn 25

  And by your palfrey good,

  I read you for a ranger sworn

  To keep the king’s greenwood.’

  ‘A Ranger, lady, winds his horn,

  And ’tis at peep of light; 30

  His blast is heard at merry morn,

  And mine at dead of night.’

  Yet sung she, ‘Brignall banks are fair,

  And Greta woods are gay;

  I would I were with Edmund there 35

  To reign his Queen of May!

  ‘With burnish’d brand and musketoon

  So gallantly you come,

  I read you for a bold Dragoon

  That lists the tuck of drum.’ 40

  ‘I list no more the tuck of drum,

  No more the trumpet near;

  But when the beetle sounds his hum

  My comrades take the spear.

  And O! though Brignall banks be fair 45

  And Greta woods be gay,

  Yet mickle must the maiden dare

  Would
reign my Queen of May!

  ‘Maiden! a nameless life I lead,

  A nameless death I’ll die; 50

  The fiend whose lantern lights the mead

  Were better mate than I!

  And when I’m with my comrades met

  Beneath the greenwood bough, —

  What once we were we all forget, 55

  Nor think what we are now.’

  Chorus

  ‘Yet Brignall banks are fresh and fair,

  And Greta woods are green,

  And you may gather garlands there

  Would grace a summer-queen.’ 60

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  To a Lock of Hair

  Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832)

  THY hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright

  As in that well-remember’d night

  When first thy mystic braid was wove,

  And first my Agnes whisper’d love.

  Since then how often hast thou prest 5

  The torrid zone of this wild breast,

  Whose wrath and hate have sworn to dwell

  With the first sin that peopled hell;

  A breast whose blood’s a troubled ocean,

  Each throb the earthquake’s wild commotion! 10

  O if such clime thou canst endure

  Yet keep thy hue unstain’d and pure,

  What conquest o’er each erring thought

  Of that fierce realm had Agnes wrought!

  I had not wander’d far and wide 15

  With such an angel for my guide;

  Nor heaven nor earth could then reprove me

  If she had lived and lived to love me.

  Not then this world’s wild joys had been

  To me one savage hunting scene, 20

  My sole delight the headlong race

  And frantic hurry of the chase;

  To start, pursue, and bring to bay,

  Rush in, drag down, and rend my prey,

  Then — from the carcass turn away! 25

  Mine ireful mood had sweetness tamed,

  And soothed each wound which pride inflamed: —

  Yes, God and man might now approve me

  If thou hadst lived and lived to love me!

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  Jock of Hazeldean

  Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832)

  ‘WHY weep ye by the tide, ladie?

  Why weep ye by the tide?

  I’ll wed ye to my youngest son,

  And ye sall be his bride:

  And ye sall be his bride, ladie, 5

  Sae comely to be seen’ —

  But aye she loot the tears down fa’

  For Jock of Hazeldean.

  ‘Now let this wilfu’ grief be done,

  And dry that cheek so pale; 10

  Young Frank is chief of Errington

  And lord of Langley-dale;

  His step is first in peaceful ha’,

  His sword in battle keen’ —

  But aye she loot the tears down fa’ 15

  For Jock of Hazeldean.

  ‘A chain of gold ye sall not lack,

  Nor braid to bind your hair,

  Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk,

  Nor palfrey fresh and fair; 20

  And you the foremost o’ them a’

  Shall ride our forest-queen’ —

  But aye she loot the tears down fa’

  For Jock of Hazeldean.

  The kirk was deck’d at morning-tide, 25

  The tapers glimmer’d fair;

  The priest and bridegroom wait the bride,

  And dame and knight are there:

  They sought her baith by bower and ha’

  The ladie was not seen! 30

  She’s o’er the Border, and awa’

  Wi’ Jock of Hazeldean.

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  Eleu Loro

  Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832)

  WHERE shall the lover rest

  Whom the fates sever

  From his true maiden’s breast

  Parted for ever?

  Where, through groves deep and high 5

  Sounds the far billow,

  Where early violets die

  Under the willow.

  Eleu loro

  Soft shall be his pillow. 10

  There through the summer day

  Cool streams are laving:

  There, while the tempests sway,

  Scarce are boughs waving;

  There thy rest shalt thou take, 15

  Parted for ever,

  Never again to wake

  Never, O never!

  Eleu loro

  Never, O never! 20

  Where shall the traitor rest,

  He, the deceiver,

  Who could win maiden’s breast,

  Ruin, and leave her?

  In the lost battle, 25

  Borne down by the flying,

  Where mingles war’s rattle

  With groans of the dying;

  Eleu loro

  There shall he be lying. 30

  Her wing shall the eagle flap

  O’er the falsehearted;

  His warm blood the wolf shall lap

  Ere life be parted.

  Shame and dishonour sit 35

  By his grave ever;

  Blessing shall hallow it

  Never, O never!

  Eleu loro

  Never, O never! 40

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  A Serenade

  Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832)

  AH! County Guy, the hour is nigh

  The sun has left the lea,

  The orange-flower perfumes the bower,

  The breeze is on the sea.

  The lark, his lay who trill’d all day, 5

  Sits hush’d his partner nigh;

  Breeze, bird, and flower confess the hour,

  But where is County Guy?

  The village maid steals through the shade

  Her shepherd’s suit to hear; 10

  To Beauty shy, by lattice high,

  Sings high-born Cavalier.

  The star of Love, all stars above,

  Now reigns o’er earth and sky,

  And high and low the influence know — 15

  But where is County Guy?

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  The Rover

  Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832)

  A WEARY lot is thine, fair maid,

  A weary lot is thine!

  To pull the thorn thy brow to braid,

  And press the rue for wine.

  A lightsome eye, a soldier’s mien 5

  A feather of the blue,

  A doublet of the Lincoln green —

  No more of me you knew

  My Love!

  No more of me you knew. 10

  ‘This morn is merry June, I trow,

  The rose is budding fain;

  But she shall bloom in winter snow

  Ere we two meet again.’

  He turn’d his charger as he spake 15

  Upon the river shore,

  He gave the bridle-reins a shake,

  Said ‘Adieu for evermore

  My Love!

  And adieu for evermore.’ 20

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  The Maid of Neidpath

  Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832)

  O LOVERS’ eyes are sharp to see,

  And lovers’ ears in hearing;

  And love, in life’s extremity,

  Can lend an hour of cheering.

  Disease had been in Mary’s bower 5

  And slow decay from mourning,

  Though now she
sits on Neidpath’s tower

  To watch her Love’s returning.

  All sunk and dim her eyes so bright,

  Her form decay’d by pining, 10

  Till through her wasted hand, at night,

  You saw the taper shining.

  By fits a sultry hectic hue

  Across her cheek was flying;

  By fits so ashy pale she grew 15

  Her maidens thought her dying.

  Yet keenest powers to see and hear

  Seem’d in her frame residing;

  Before the watch-dog prick’d his ear

  She heard her lover’s riding; 20

  Ere scarce a distant form was kenn’d

  She knew and waved to greet him,

  And o’er the battlement did bend

  As on the wing to meet him.

  He came — he pass’d — an heedless gaze 25

  As o’er some stranger glancing:

  Her welcome, spoke in faltering phrase,

  Lost in his courser’s prancing —

  The castle-arch, whose hollow tone

  Returns each whisper spoken, 30

  Could scarcely catch the feeble moan

  Which told her heart was broken.

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  Gathering Song of Donald the Black

  Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832)

  PIBROCH of Donuil Dhu

  Pibroch of Donuil

  Wake thy wild voice anew,

  Summon Clan Conuil!

  Come away, come away, 5

  Hark to the summons!

  Come in your war-array,

  Gentles and commons.

  Come from deep glen, and

  From mountain so rocky; 10

  The war-pipe and pennon

  Are at Inverlocky.

  Come every hill-plaid, and

  True heart that wears one,

  Come every steel blade, and 15

  Strong hand that bears one.

 

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