Sir Walter Scott Poems

Glowing with love, on fire for fame
A Troubadour that hated sorrow
Beneath his lady's window came,
And thus he sung his last good-morrow:
...

I.
The hunting tribes of air and earth
Respect the brethren of their birth;
...

I.
If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright,
Go visit it by the pale moonlight;
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On Hallow-Mass Eve, ere yon boune ye to rest,
Ever beware that your couch be bless'd;
Sign it with cross, and sain it with bead,
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'Twas when among our linden-trees
The bees had housed in swarms,
(And grey-hair'd peasants say that these
Betoken foreign arms),
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'Why sit'st thou by that ruin'd hall,
Thou aged carle so stern and grey?
Dost thou its former pride recall,
Or ponder how it pass'd away?'-
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I.
O, will you hear a knightly tale of old Bohemian day,
It was the noble Moringer in wedlock bed he lay;
...