A LOVELY eve! as loath to quit a scene | |
| So beautiful, the parting sun smiles back | |
| From western Pentlands summits, all between | |
| Bearing the impress of his glorious track; | |
| His last, long, level ray fond Earth retains; | 5 |
| The Forth a sheet of gold from shore to shore; | |
| Gold on the Esk, and on the ripened plains, | |
| And on the boughs of yon broad sycamore. | |
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| Long shadows fall from turret and from tree; | |
| Homeward the laborer through the radiance goes; | 10 |
| Calmly the mew floats downward to the sea; | |
| And inland flock the rooks to their repose: | |
| Over the ancient farmstead wreathes the smoke, | |
| Melting in silence mid the pure blue sky; | |
| And sings the blackbird, cloistered in the oak, | 15 |
| His anthem to the eve, how solemnly! | |
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| On this green hillyon grovethe placid flow | |
| Of Eskand on the Links that skirt the town | |
| How differently, three hundred years ago, | |
| The same sun oer this selfsame spot went down! | 20 |
| Instead of harvest wealth, the gory dead | |
| In many a mangled heap lay scattered round; | |
| Where all is tranquil, anguish reigned and dread, | |
| And for the blackbird wailed the bugles sound. | |
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| Mirrored by fancys power, my sight before | 25 |
| The past revives with panoramic glow; | |
| Scotland resumes the cold rough front of yore, | |
| And England, now her sister, scowls her foe: | |
| Two mighty armaments, for conflict met, | |
| Darken the hollows and the heights afar, | 30 |
| Horse, cannon, standard, spear, and burgonet, | |
| The leaders and the legions, mad for war. | |
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| Shrilly uprises Warwicks battle-cry, | |
| As from Falsyde his glittering columns wheel; | |
| Hark to the rasp of Greys fierce cavalry | 35 |
| Against the bristling hedge of Scotlands steel! | |
| As bursts the billow foaming on the rock, | |
| That onset is repelled, that charge is met; | |
| Flaunting, the bannered thistle braves the shock, | |
| And backward bears the might of Somerset. * * * * * | 40 |
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