English Poetry II: From Collins to Fitzgerald.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
Sir Walter Scott
432. The Rover
A
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 rose is budding fain;
But she shall bloom in winter snow
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.’