CONNEL AND FLORA, A SCOTTISH LEGEND. _____ “THE western sun shines o'er
the Loch, And gilds the mountain’s brow, But what are nature’s smiles to
me, Without the smile of you? “O will ye go to Garnock side! Where birks and woodbines twine.-- I’ve sought you oft to be my Bride, When! when will ye be mine?” “Oft as ye sought me for your
Bride, My mind spoke frae my e'e; Then wherefore seek to win a
heart, That is not mine to gi’e? “With CONNEL down the dusky dale, Long plighted are my vows; He won my heart before I wist I had a heart to lose.” The fire flash’d from his eyes
of wrath, Dark gloom’d his heavy brow, He grasp’d her in his arms of
strength, And strain’d to lay her low. She wept and cried—the rocks
replied-- The echoes from their cell, On fairy-wing swift bore her
voice, To CONNEL of the dale. With vengeful haste he hied him
up, But when stern Donald
saw The youth approach, deep-stung
with guilt, He shame-fac’d fled awa’. “Ah! stay
my CONNEL—sheath
thy sword-- O, do not him pursue! For mighty are his arms of
strength, And thou the fight may rue.”-- “No!—wait thee here,—I’ll soon
return,-- I mark’d him from the wood!-- The lion-heart of jealous love, Burns for its Rival’s
blood! “Ho! stop
thee coward,—villain vile! With all thy boasted art, My sword’s blade soon shall dim
its shine, Within thy reynard-heart!”-- “Ha! foolish
stripling dost thou urge The deadly fight with me? This arm strove hard in Flodden field, Dost
think ’twill shrink from thee!” “Thy frequent vaunts of Flodden field, Were ever fraught with guile: For honour ever marks the
brave, But thou’rt a villain vile!”-- Their broad blades glitter to
the sun,-- The woods resound each clash,-- Young CONNEL sinks ’neath Donald’s sword, With deep, and deadly gash. “Ah! dearest
FLORA,
soon our morn Of love is overcast!-- The hills look dim--Alas!—my love!”-- He groan’d and breath’d his last. “Stay ruthless Ruffian!--murtherer! Here glut thy savage wrath!-- Be thou the baneful minister, To join us low in death!” In wild despair she tore her
hair, Sunk speechless by his side-- Mild evening wept in dewy
tears, And wrapt in night she died. |