John Wilson

Crookston Castle

BY Crookston Castle waves the still green yew,
The first that met the royal Mary’s view,
When, bright in charms, the youthful princess led
The graceful Darnley to her throne and bed:
Embossed in silver, now its branches green
Transcend the myrtle of the Paphian queen.
But dark Langside, from Crookston viewed afar,
Still seems to range in pomp the rebel war;
Here, when the moon rides dimly through the sky,
The peasant sees broad dancing standards fly,
And one bright female form, with sword and crown,
Still grieves to view her banners beaten down.

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