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Poem by Walter Scott


The Maid of Neidpath


O lovers eyes are sharp to see,
And lovers ears in hearing;
And love, in lifes extremity,
Can lend an hour of cheering.
Disease had been in Marys bower
And slow decay from mourning,
Though now she sits on Neidpaths tower
To watch her Loves returning.

All sunk and dim her eyes so bright,
Her form decayd by pining,
Till through her wasted hand, at night,
You saw the taper shining.
By fits a sultry hectic hue
Across her cheek was flying;
By fits so ashy pale she grew
Her maidens thought her dying.

Yet keenest powers to see and hear
Seemd in her frame residing;
Before the watch-dog prickd his ear
She heard her lovers riding;
Ere scarce a distant form was kennd
She knew and waved to greet him,
And oer the battlement did bend
As on the wing to meet him.

He camehe passdan heedless gaze
As oer some stranger glancing:
Her welcome, spoke in faltering phrase,
Lost in his coursers prancing
The castle-arch, whose hollow tone
Returns each whisper spoken,
Could scarcely catch the feeble moan
Which told her heart was broken. 

1806

Walter Scott


Walter Scott's other poems:
  1. St. Swithin's Chair
  2. MacKrimmon's Lament
  3. The Bard's Incantation
  4. The Dying Gipsy Smuggler
  5. Heres a Health to King Charles


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