Jul 7, 2014

THE LADY OF THE LAKE

by Sir Walter Scott


Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast hung
   On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring
And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung,
   Till envious ivy did around thee cling,
Muffling with verdant ringlet every string,--
   O Minstrel Harp, still must thine accents sleep?
Mid rustling leaves and fountains murmuring,
   Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence keep,
Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep?

An annotated version by William J. Rolfe can be found here.

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