Festival of song: a series of evenings with the poets . ,Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, As fearless and as well:Till utter darkness closed her wingOer their thin host and wounded king. A yet more stirring passage is that of the death-scene of the hero,which closes thus :— The war, that for a space did fail. Now, trebly thundering, swelled the gale, And Stanley ! was the cry :A light on Marmions visage spread. And fixed his glazing eye :With dying hand, above his headHe shook the fragment of his blade, And shouted Victory ! Charge, Chester, charge ! On, Stanley, on !Were the last
Festival of song: a series of evenings with the poets . ,Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, As fearless and as well:Till utter darkness closed her wingOer their thin host and wounded king. A yet more stirring passage is that of the death-scene of the hero,which closes thus :— The war, that for a space did fail. Now, trebly thundering, swelled the gale, And Stanley ! was the cry :A light on Marmions visage spread. And fixed his glazing eye :With dying hand, above his headHe shook the fragment of his blade, And shouted Victory ! Charge, Chester, charge ! On, Stanley, on !Were the last words of Marmion. Hogg, the Ettrick shepherd, has written many beautiful lyrics :we select two of his most admired. The first is entitled, fVheh theKye come home. This is the latest version ot this very beautifulpastoral song :— Come all ye jolly shepherds that whistle through the glen,Ill tell ye of a secret that courtiers dinna ken,—What is the greatest bliss that the tongue o man can name rTis to woo a bonnie lassie when the kvc come When the kye come hame, when the kye come hame,Tween the gloamin and the mirk, when the kye come hame. Tis not beneath the burgonet, nor yet beneath the crown,Tis not on couch of velvet, nor yet on bed of down—Tis beneath the spreading birch, in the dell without a name,Wi a bonnie, bonnie lassie, when the kye come 193 Then the eye shines so bright, the hale soul to beguile,Theres love in every whisper, and joy in every smile ;O, wha wad choose a crown, wi its perils and its miss a bonnie lassie, when the kye come hame ? See yonder pawkie shepherd, that lingers on the ewes are in the fauld, and his lambs are lying still:Yet he downa gang to bed, for his heart is in a flame—To meet his bonnie lassie, when the kye come hame. Awa wi fame and fortune—what comfort can they gie ?And a the arts that prey upon mans life and liberty :Gie me the highest joy that the heart o man can frame—My bonnie, bonnie la
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1860, booksu, booksubjectenglishpoetry
