Poems (E. L. F.)/On a glen at roseneath
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ON A "GLEN"
AT ROSENEATH, 1842
A brook, meandering, was my guide
Through a wild Scottish glen,
That tracked the mountain's heathy side
Far from the haunts of men.
Through a wild Scottish glen,
That tracked the mountain's heathy side
Far from the haunts of men.
That lonely brook sang mournfully,
As on its waters rolled;
The music blessed, all peacefully,
My spirit as I strolled.
As on its waters rolled;
The music blessed, all peacefully,
My spirit as I strolled.
And trees all-sweepingly o'erhung
The waters as they lay,
Till the deep shadows o'er them flung
Half-hid the light of day.
The waters as they lay,
Till the deep shadows o'er them flung
Half-hid the light of day.
But as I wandered on and on,
Bright sunny glances came
Through those dark trees, and streaming shone
Like sheets of liquid flame.
Bright sunny glances came
Through those dark trees, and streaming shone
Like sheets of liquid flame.
And many a shadowy spot and lone,
And many an aged tree,
And fragments grey of rock and stone,
Wake melody to me.
And many an aged tree,
And fragments grey of rock and stone,
Wake melody to me.
For oft before, in sunny hours,
I've smiled o'er that loved scene;
Oh! I do love the hallowed powers
That echo what hath been.
I've smiled o'er that loved scene;
Oh! I do love the hallowed powers
That echo what hath been.