Ryno THE storms are hush'd, the pelting showers pass, Serene and tranquil is the noon of day; The sun gleams fitful o'er the waving grass, And through the vale the red stream works its way. O stream! thy sound is music to mine ear, But sweeter is the voice that sounds afar; It is the voice of Alpin that I hear, He mourns the valiant who have fall'n in war. Why dost thou weep, O Alpin, son of song? Why thus thy melancholy music pour, Like the cold blast that sighs the woods along, Or sullen waves that tumble on the shore? Alpin My tears, O Ryno, for the brave are shed; Though tall among the sons of men you move, Yet must you slumber with the silent dead, Forgotten on the hills you lov'd to rove. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: A SUBTERRANEAN CITY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES TO A BLUEBELL by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE FALL; A GREAT FAVORIT BEHEADED by LUIS DE GONGORA AFTER A JOURNEY by THOMAS HARDY FARRAGUT by WILLIAM TUCKEY MEREDITH THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET by SAMUEL WOODWORTH BEAUTIFUL EYES by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 3. ON WASHING by JOHN ARMSTRONG |