Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/978

 WALTER CHALMERS SMITH

No father here but would give a son

For the old country, And his mother the sword would have girded on

To fight her battles Many's the battle that has been won

By the brave tartans, Glenaradale.

But the big-horn'd stag and his hinds, we know,

In the high corries, And the salmon that swirls in the pool below

Where the stream rushes Are more than the hearts of men, and so

We leave thy green valley, Glenaradale.

��T!

��DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI

779 The Blessed Damozel

SHE blessed damozel lean'd out From the gold bar of Heaven, Her eyes were deeper than the depth

Of waters stilPd at even, She had three hhcs in her hand,

And the stars in her hair were seven.

Her robe, ungirt from clasp to hem,

No wrought flowers did adorn, But a white rose of Mary's gift,

For service meetly worn, Her hair that lay along her back

Was yellow like ripe corn.

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