Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Sir Walter Scott. 17711832546. The Rover’s Adieu
A WEARY lot is thine, fair maid, | |
A weary lot is thine! | |
To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, | |
And press the rue for wine. | |
A lightsome eye, a soldier’s mien, | 5 |
A feather of the blue, | |
A doublet of the Lincoln green— | |
No more of me ye knew, | |
My Love! | |
No more of me ye knew. | 10 |
‘This morn is merry June, I trow, | |
The rose is budding fain; | |
But she shall bloom in winter snow | |
Ere we two meet again.’ | |
—He turn’d his charger as he spake | 15 |
Upon the river shore, | |
He gave the bridle-reins a shake, | |
Said ‘Adieu for evermore, | |
My Love! | |
And adieu for evermore.’ | 20 |