Aged Bard's Wish, The - Stanzas 1ÔÇô9
TRANSLATION OF A GAELIC POEM COMPOSED IN THE ISLE OF SKY.
I.
O H ! lay me by yon peaceful stream
That glides away so softly slow,
Where boughs exclude the noon-day beam,
And early violets round me blow.
II.
And thou, O sun! with friendly eye
Regard my languid limbs of age;
While on the new spring grass they lie,
Their warmth restore, their pains assuage.
III.
Then on the pure stream's sloping side,
Wave soft thy wings thou western gale,
Clear stream, how gently dost thou glide,
To wake the flow'rets of the vale.
IV.
The primrose pale, of lovely dye,
Around my dewy bank be spread;
The daisy ope its modest eye,
And golden blooms bedeck my bed.
V.
From lofty banks that bound my glen,
Let blossom'd branches softly bend,
While sweetly from each rocky den,
The little birds their love-notes blend.
VI.
Where from yon crag, with age so grey,
The fresh stream bursts with rushing sound,
And echo bears the din away,
While ocean's distant waves resound.
VII.
Each rock and hill returns the strain
Of nature's joy that wakes around,
While sportive kids in frolic vein,
And roes in sprightly gambol bound.
VIII.
The low of herds on yonder gale
Comes pleasing to my aged ear,
And sweetly rural from the dale
The bleating of their young I hear.
IX.
And near me let the hinds repose,
And dappled fauns, when tir'd of play,
Beside my brook's green margin close,
Or where the dashing fountains play.
I.
O H ! lay me by yon peaceful stream
That glides away so softly slow,
Where boughs exclude the noon-day beam,
And early violets round me blow.
II.
And thou, O sun! with friendly eye
Regard my languid limbs of age;
While on the new spring grass they lie,
Their warmth restore, their pains assuage.
III.
Then on the pure stream's sloping side,
Wave soft thy wings thou western gale,
Clear stream, how gently dost thou glide,
To wake the flow'rets of the vale.
IV.
The primrose pale, of lovely dye,
Around my dewy bank be spread;
The daisy ope its modest eye,
And golden blooms bedeck my bed.
V.
From lofty banks that bound my glen,
Let blossom'd branches softly bend,
While sweetly from each rocky den,
The little birds their love-notes blend.
VI.
Where from yon crag, with age so grey,
The fresh stream bursts with rushing sound,
And echo bears the din away,
While ocean's distant waves resound.
VII.
Each rock and hill returns the strain
Of nature's joy that wakes around,
While sportive kids in frolic vein,
And roes in sprightly gambol bound.
VIII.
The low of herds on yonder gale
Comes pleasing to my aged ear,
And sweetly rural from the dale
The bleating of their young I hear.
IX.
And near me let the hinds repose,
And dappled fauns, when tir'd of play,
Beside my brook's green margin close,
Or where the dashing fountains play.
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