Verse > Anthologies > William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. > The Book of Georgian Verse
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William Stanley Braithwaite, ed.  The Book of Georgian Verse.  1909.
 
Coronach
By Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832)
 
HE 1 is gone on the mountain,
  He is lost to the forest,
Like a summer-dried fountain,
  When our need was the sorest.
The font reappearing,        5
  From the rain-drops shall borrow,
But to us comes no cheering,
  To Duncan no morrow!
 
The hand of the reaper
  Takes the ears that are hoary,        10
But the voice of the weeper
  Wails manhood in glory.
The autumn winds rushing
  Waft the leaves that are searest,
But our flower was in flushing,        15
  When the blighting was nearest.
 
Fleet foot on the correi,
  Sage counsel in cumber,
Red hand in the foray,
  How sound is thy slumber!        20
Like the dew on the mountain,
  Like the foam on the river,
Like the bubble on the fountain,
  Thou art gone, and forever!
 
Note 1. From The Lady of the Lake. [back]
 
 
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