I hae nae sleep, I hae nae rest, My Ellen's lost for aye, My heart is sair and much distressed, I surely soon must die. I canna think o' wark at a', My eyes still wander far, I see her neck like driven snow, I see her flaxen hair. Sair, sair, I begged she would na' hear, She proudly turned awa', Unmoved she saw the trickling tear, Which, spite o' me, would fa'. She acted weel a conqueror's part, She triumphed in my woe, She gracefu' waved me to depart, I tried, but could na' go. "Ah why," (distractedly I cried,) "Why yield me to despair? Bid ling'ring Hope resume her sway, To ease my heart sae sair." She scornfu' smiled, and bade me go! This roused my dormant pride; I craved nae boon -- I took nae luke, "Adieu!" I proudly cried. I fled! nor Ellen hae I seen, Sin' that too fatal day: My "bosom's laird" sits heavy here, And Hope's fled far away. Care, darkly brooding, bodes a storm, I'm Sorrow's child indeed; She stamps her image on my form, I wear the mourning weed! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MEMORY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER by JOHN CROWE RANSOM THE KISS by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR SOME EYES CONDEMN by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS LEGEND OF HAMILTON TIGHE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THE OLD KIRK YARD by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS: BOOK 1. THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY TO LORD ZOUCH by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) MADRIGAL: TO HIS LADY SELVAGGIA VERGIOLESI by CINO DA PISTOIA |