THE lovely lass o' Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For e'en and morn she cries, 'Alas!' And aye the saut tear blin's her e'e: 'Drumossie moor, Drumossie day, A waefu' day it was to me! For there I lost my father dear, My father dear and brethren three. 'Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay, Their graves are growing green to see; And by them lies the dearest lad That ever blest a woman's e'e! Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord, A bluidy man I trow thou be; For monie a heart thou hast made sair, That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...L.E.L.'S LAST QUESTION by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ON THE MEMORABLE VICTORY OF PAUL JONES by PHILIP FRENEAU BEYOND THE POTOMAC by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE EPITAPH ON THE ADMIRABLE DRAMATIC POET, WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE by JOHN MILTON AT HOME IN HEAVEN by JAMES MONTGOMERY TO A FLOWER by CORRINNE M. ARTHUR EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 37. LOVE'S MY POLE-STAR by PHILIP AYRES SEEKING WATERS by DORIS R. BECK THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 104. WRITTEN AT FLORENCE: 2 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |