The Book of Scottish Song/Where shall the lover rest

Where shall the lover rest.

[This solemn warning strain Sir Walter Scott puts into the mouth of Fitz-Eustace, in the third canto of Marmion."—"A mellow voice," says the poet—

"A mellow voice Fitz-Eustace had,
The air he chose was wild and sad;
Such have I heard, in Scottish land,
Rise from the busy harvest band,
When falls before the mountaineer,
On Lowland plains, the ripen'd ear.
Now one shrill voice the notes prolong,
Now a wild chorus swells the song:
Oft have I listen'd, and stood still,
As it came softened up the hill,
And deem'd it the lament of men
Who languish'd for their native glen:
And thought how sad would be such sound
On Susquehana's swampy ground,
Kentucky's wood-encumber'd brake,
Or wild Ontario's boundless lake,
Where heart-sick exiles, in the strain,
Recall'd fair Scotland's hills again."]

Where shall the lover rest,
Whom the fates sever,
From his true maiden's breast,
Parted for ever?
Where, through groves deep and high,
Sounds the far billow,
Where early violets die,
Under the willow.
Eleu loro.
Soft shall be his pillow.

There, through the summer day,
Cool streams are laving,
There, while the tempests sway,
Scarce are boughs waving;
There thy rest shalt thou take,
Parted for ever,
Never again to wake,
Never, O never,
Eleu loro.
Never, O never.

Where shall the traitor rest,
He the deceiver,
Who could win maiden's breast,
Ruin, and leave her?
In the lost battle,
Borne down by the flying,
Where mingles war's rattle,
With groans of the dying,
Eleu loro.
There shall he be lying.

Her wing shall the eagle flap
O'er the false-hearted;
His warm blood the wolf shall lap,
E'er life be parted;
Shame and dishonour sit
By his grave ever;
Blessing shall hallow it—
Never, O never,
Eleu loro.
Never, O never.

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