Classic Poem

Solitary , silent at the brown burn's edge,
Bent above the ripple where the shy trout run,
He but sees the wan wave lapping on the sedge—
I can see the bit-bars flashing in the sun.

High and swift above him rush the startled teal,
Grey and close about him folds the mother-mist,
He but sees the round hill rising like a wheel—
I can see a horseman with hawk upon his wrist.

Brown below the heather runs the ripple on his feet,
Low among the shadows there are shadows slipping through,
He but sees the moor-trout mingling as they meet—
I can see the goshawk stooping from the blue.

Now he hears a footstep; wakes a sleeping power;
Wide-winged and wonderful sails away, and slow.—
I can see a tall knight 'neath a lady's bower
Riding with a shorn plume at his saddle-bow.