ROVER
by: Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832)
- "
 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,
- 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.
-
- "The 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
- Upon the river shore,
- He gave the bridle-reins a shake,
- Said, "Adieu for evermore,
- My love!
- And adieu for evermore."
|
"Rover" is reprinted from
The Golden Treasury. Ed. Francis T. Palgrave. London:
Macmillan, 1875. |
MORE
POEMS BY SIR WALTER SCOTT |
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