Donald's Grave
SCENE, NEAR GLENCO .
Within the dark bosom of yon lonely glen,
There sleeps my young Donald, the flower of his clan,
In death's silent slumbers, where lowly he's laid;
The green sod his target, the cold clay his plaid.
How still lies the heart that to me ay beat true;
And dim now that eye once a love-speaking blue;
Now wither'd those soft lips — the roses are flown,
And clotted those locks of a dark bushy brown.
Last night, when the stars from yon dun sky had fled,
And my red stiffen'd eyes had no more tears to shed,
While the blast thro' the broad oak did howl round my head,
Like the bursting of sorrow, or songs for the dead;
When weary with watching, methought he drew near,
And half of his fair form thro' blood did appear!
Tho' pale was his aspect, his manner was meek,
And his lock'd hollow jaw seem'd to open and speak! —
" Why mourns my dear Flora along the lone heath?
Can the warm tears of sorrow retrieve me from death?
But the tie's ever binding, although we must part,
And love shall find room still within this cold heart.
" How soft rests the hero who dies for the cause,
Of honour and freedom, his country and laws;
The bard's bursting song his achievements shall save,
And chieftains shall sigh as they stalk by his grave!
" We fear'd not their numbers, that darken'd the plain:
They proffer'd us friendship, their offers were ta'en;
But the cold-blooded monsters no ties could engage —
In slumbers they slew whom they fear'd to enrage!
" But the miscreant minion of treach'rous power,
His fame and false glory shall fall in an hour!
No sweet-sounding requiem his spirit may claim,
And forgetfulness leave but the dregs of a name!
" Then cease thee, my Flora, O! cease thee to weep,
My light passing spirit thou marrest of sleep:
Thrice three months are past since thou should'st been my bride,
But soon shalt thou stretch thee along by my side! "
But lo! I awoke, and the lark was on high;
The sun his gold tresses had spread o'er the sky;
Yet still the dark vision this truth did recal,
That the lovely soon fade, and the mighty must fall!
Within the dark bosom of yon lonely glen,
There sleeps my young Donald, the flower of his clan,
In death's silent slumbers, where lowly he's laid;
The green sod his target, the cold clay his plaid.
How still lies the heart that to me ay beat true;
And dim now that eye once a love-speaking blue;
Now wither'd those soft lips — the roses are flown,
And clotted those locks of a dark bushy brown.
Last night, when the stars from yon dun sky had fled,
And my red stiffen'd eyes had no more tears to shed,
While the blast thro' the broad oak did howl round my head,
Like the bursting of sorrow, or songs for the dead;
When weary with watching, methought he drew near,
And half of his fair form thro' blood did appear!
Tho' pale was his aspect, his manner was meek,
And his lock'd hollow jaw seem'd to open and speak! —
" Why mourns my dear Flora along the lone heath?
Can the warm tears of sorrow retrieve me from death?
But the tie's ever binding, although we must part,
And love shall find room still within this cold heart.
" How soft rests the hero who dies for the cause,
Of honour and freedom, his country and laws;
The bard's bursting song his achievements shall save,
And chieftains shall sigh as they stalk by his grave!
" We fear'd not their numbers, that darken'd the plain:
They proffer'd us friendship, their offers were ta'en;
But the cold-blooded monsters no ties could engage —
In slumbers they slew whom they fear'd to enrage!
" But the miscreant minion of treach'rous power,
His fame and false glory shall fall in an hour!
No sweet-sounding requiem his spirit may claim,
And forgetfulness leave but the dregs of a name!
" Then cease thee, my Flora, O! cease thee to weep,
My light passing spirit thou marrest of sleep:
Thrice three months are past since thou should'st been my bride,
But soon shalt thou stretch thee along by my side! "
But lo! I awoke, and the lark was on high;
The sun his gold tresses had spread o'er the sky;
Yet still the dark vision this truth did recal,
That the lovely soon fade, and the mighty must fall!
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