ON THE DEPARTURE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT FROM ABBOTSFORD FOR NAPLES [1831]
Reading edition
ON THE DEPARTURE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT FROM ABBOTSFORD FOR NAPLES [1831]
A trouble, not of clouds, or weeping rain, Nor of the setting sun’s pathetic light Engendered, hangs o’er Eildon’s triple height; Spirits of Power, assembled there, complain For kindred Power departing from their sight; While Tweed, best pleased in chanting a blithe strain, Saddens his voice again, and yet again. Lift up your hearts, ye Mourners! for the might Of the whole world’s good wishes with him goes; Blessings and prayers in nobler retinue Than sceptred king or laurelled conqueror knows, Follow this wondrous Potentate. Be true, Ye winds of ocean, and the midland sea, Wafting your Charge to soft Parthenope! W. Wordsworth.
INDEX OF FIRST LINES
PAGE
A chieftain, to the Highlands bound, 13
Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh, 81
Ah! what can ail thee, wretched wight, 265
Ah! what avails the sceptred race, 72
A lake and a fairy boat, 87
Allen-a-dale has no fagot for burning, 126
All worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, 255
And is this—Yarrow?—This the Stream, 324
Annan Water’s wading deep, 178
Arethusa arose, 191
As I was walking all alane, 78
As it fell upon a day, 206
A spaniel, Beau, that fares like you, 6
As slow our ship her foamy track, 65
At midnight, in the month of June, 207
A trouble, not of clouds, or weeping rain, 343
Attend, all ye who list to hear our noble England’s praise, 167
At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears, 164
A weary lot is thine fair maid, 194
Behold her, single in the field, 90
Bird of the wilderness, 198
By yon castle wa’, at the close of the day, 63
Come live with me and be my love, 135
Come, Sleep! O Sleep, the certain knot of peace, 94
Could love for ever, 71
Down in yon garden sweet and gay, 163
Fair Daffodils, we weep to see, 89
Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, 92
Fair stood the wind for France, 18
Fear no more the heat o’ the sun, 199
From Stirling Castle we had seen, 322
Full fathom five thy father lie, 71
Good people all, of every sort, 38
Hail to thee, blithe spirit, 203
Hear what Highland Nora said, 17
Helen, thy beauty is to me, 198
Hence, loathèd Melancholy, 144
Hence, vain deluding Joys, 150
Henry was every morning fed, 268
Here, a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling, 270
Here lies, whom hound did ne’er pursue, 285
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, 88
I am monarch of all I survey, 276
If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, 121
If I had thought thou couldst have died, 100
I have read, in some old marvellous tale, 128
I’m wearin’ awa’, Jean, 182
In a drear-nighted December, 311
In the greenest of our valleys, 240
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan, 142
I remember, I remember, 3
It fell about the Lammas tide, 286
It is an ancient Mariner, 215
It was a’ for our rightfu’ King, 68
It was many and many a year ago, 96
It was the schooner Hesperus, 46
I’ve heard them lilting, at the ewe-milking, 137
I wandered lonely as a cloud, 119
I wish I were where Helen lies, 115
John Gilpin was a citizen, 28
Little Lamb, who made thee? 4
Look not thou on beauty’s charming, 73
Loving friend, the gift of one, 51
Merry it is in the good greenwood, 55
Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold, 86
Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, 108
Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are, 257
O blithe New-comer! I have heard, 113
O, Brignall banks are wild and fair, 40
Of a’ the airts the wind can blaw, 62
Of Nelson and the North, 43
Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray, 8
Oft in the stilly night, 184
O have ye na heard o’ the fause Sakelde, 248
Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story, 111
Oh! wherefore come ye forth, in triumph from the North, 211
O listen, listen, ladies gay, 213
O, my luve’s like a red, red rose, 66
Once it smiled a silent dell, 107
On Hallow-Mass Eve, ere you boune ye to rest, 109
On Linden, when the sun was low, 36
Orpheus with his lute made trees, 77
Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower’d, 27
O, wert thou in the cauld blast, 61
O where have you been, my long, long love, 102
O, young Lochinvar is come out of the West, 45
Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day, 176
Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, 82
Proud Maisie is in the wood, 92
Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair, 80
Ruin seize thee, ruthless King, 243
Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled, 67
Sing Erlington and Cowdenknowes where Homes had ance commanding, 284
Spring, the sweet spring, is the year’s pleasant king, 210
So, we’ll go no more a roving, 181
Tell me not (sweet) I am unkind, 102
That day of wrath, that dreadful day, 94
That way look, my Infant, lo! 271
The Abbot arose, and closed his book, 331
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, 82
The Baron of Smaylho’me rose with day, 278
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, 298
The day is done, and the darkness, 192
The dews of summer night did fall, 200
The glories of our blood and state, 177
The harp that once through Tara’s halls, 70
The king sits in Dunfermline toun, 259
The Love that I have chosen, 106
The Minstrel-boy to the war is gone, 68
The mountain sheep are sweeter, 187
The noon was shady, and soft airs, 50
The poplars are fell’d; farewell to the shade, 95
The skies they were ashen and sober, 138
The sun descending in the west, 5
The sun upon the lake is low, 74
The sun upon the Weirdlaw Hill, 123
There is a garden in her face, 176
There lived a wife at Usher’s Well, 124
They shot him dead on the Nine-Stone Rig, 111
This ae nighte, this ae nighte, 330
This is the month, and this the happy morn, 303
Thou wast all to me, love, 79
’Tis the middle of night by the castle clock, 312
’Twas at the royal feast for Persia won, 129
Twist ye, twine ye! even so, 101
Under a spreading chestnut tree, 37
Waken, lords and ladies gay, 12
We sat within the farm-house old, 185
We walked along, while bright and red, 195
We wander’d to the pine forest, 159
When captaines couragious, whom death cold not daunte, 171
When icicles hang by the wall, 95
When Love with unconfinèd wings, 117
When maidens such as Hester die, 120
When my mother died I was very young, 16
When the British warrior-queen, 341
When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame, 161
When the voices of children are heard on the green, 1
Where shall the lover rest, 247
Where the bee sucks, there suck I, 181
Where the pools are bright and deep, 2
Where the remote Bermudas ride, 183
While the dawn on the mountain was misty and gray, 85
Whither, ’midst falling dew, 179
Who is Silvia? what is she, 73
Who would true valour see, 274
Why weep ye by the tide, ladie, 156
With sweetest milk and sugar first, 25
Ye flowery banks o’ bonie Doon, 64
Ye Mariners of England, 22
Yesterday was brave Hallowday, 326
Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more, 291
You meaner beauties of the night, 175
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