Hew Morrison Collection > Minor poems, and translations, in verse

I THE DEATH OF CARRIL.
XVI.
" Raise, Maids of Sorra ! raise your strains of woe
For him, your fav'rite, in his early grave !
Pale as the mist that dims the mountain's brow,
Ye tearful mourn the comely and the brave !
XVII.
" Oft on the pebbly strand he loved to stray,
Or track the stormy deep in bold career ;
Oft in the chace, with many a soothing lay,
He cheered the huntsmen when they roused the deer.
XVIII.
" But lowly now his stately form is laid,
Stript of his armour and his fair array ;
Serene he slumbers in his narrow bed.
By yonder mead, where weeping mourners stray.
XIX.
" Farewell, thou brave, best, beautiful, beloved !
Active and eloquent, — ^in battle true !
A stream of strength thou, in the carnage, proved :
Prince of the matcliless blades — a last adieu !"'