This is the bonny brae, the green,
yet sacred to he brave,
Where still, of ancient size, is seen
Gigantic Kielder's grave.
The lonely shepherd loves to mark
The daisy springing fair,
Where weeps the birch of silver bark,
With long dishevelled hair.
The grave is green, and round is spread
The curling lad-fern;
That fatal day the mould was red,
No moss was on the cairn.
Where weeps the birch with branches green
Without the holy ground,
Between two ancient stones is seen
The warrior's ridgey mound.
And the hunters bold of Kielders train,
Within yon castle's wall,
In a deadly sleep must aye remain
Till the ruin'd towers down fall.
Each in his hunters garb array'd,
Each holds his bugle horn;
Their keen hounds at their feet are laid,
That ne'er shall wake the morn.
Walter Scott (1771–1832)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Thanks to Hob on The Modern Antiquarian who writes, "This is 'The Cowt's Grave' from Walter Scott's Border Ballads, and possibly refers to the remains of a lost four poster circle by the Deadwater burn. No-one's ever found it though.
Post a Comment