JAMES HOGG
When seven lang years had come and fled,
When grief was calm, and hope was dead ;
When scarce was remembered Kilmeny's name,
Late, late in a gloamin' Kilmeny came hame'
And O, her beauty was fair to see,
But still and steadfast was her e'e'
Such beauty bard may never declare,
For there was no pride nor passion there;
And the soft desiie of maiden's e'en
In that mild face could never be seen.
Her seymar was the lily flower,
And her cheek the moss-rose in the shower;
And her voice like the distant melodye,
That floats along the twilight sea.
But c he loved to raike the lanely glen,
And kecped afar frae the haunts of men;
Her holy hymns unheard to sing,
To suck the flowers, and drink the spring.
But wherever her peaceful form appeared,
The wild beasts of the hill were cheer'd;
The wolf play'd blythly round the field,
The lordly byson low'd and kneel'd;
The dun deer woo'd with manner bland,
And cower'd aneath her lily hand.
And when at even the woodlands rung,
When hymns of other worlds she sung
In ecstasy of sweet devotion,
O, then the glen was all in motion'
The wild beasts of the forest came,
Broke from their bughts and faulds the tame,
seymar] cymar, a slight covering. raikc] range, wander, milking-pens.
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