Ungather'd lie the peats upon the moss; No more is heard the shaggy pony's hoof; The thin smoke curls no more above the roof; Unused the brown-sailed boat doth idly toss At anchor in the Kyle; and all across The strath the collie scours without reproof; The gather'd sheep stand wonderingly aloof; And everywhere there is a sense of loss. "Has Sheumais left for over sea? Nay, sir, A se'nnight since a gloom came over him; He sicken'd, and his gaze grew vague and dim; Three days ago we found he did not stir. He has gone into the Silence. 'Neath yon fir He lies, and waits the Lord in darkness grim." |