Sir Walter Scott Poems

This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
Every nighte and alle;
Fire and sleete and candle lighte,
...

Farewell to Northmaven,
Grey Hillswicke, farewell!
The storms on thy haven,
The storms on thy fell -
...

Heap on more wood! the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,
We'll keep our Christmas merry still.
...

On Ettrick Forest's mountains dun
'Tis blithe to hear the sportsman's gun,
And seek the heath-frequenting brood
...

Heap on more wood! the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,
We'll keep our Christmas merry still.
Each age has deem'd the new-born year
...

Frederick leaves the land of France,
Homeward hastes his steps to measure,
Careless casts the parting glance
On the scene of former pleasure.
...

Tho' right be aft put down by strength,
As mony a day we saw that,
The true and leilfu' cause at length
...

I.
Fair Brussels, thou art far behind,
Though, lingering on the morning wind,
We yet may hear the hour
...

All joy was bereft me the day that you left me,
And climb'd the tall vessel to sail yon wide sea;
O weary betide it! I wander'd beside it,
...

High deeds achieved of knightly fame,
From Palestine the champion came;
The cross upon his shoulders borne,
Battle and blast had dimm'd and torn.
...