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Ah me! those flowers he binds no more;
That plays on Carron's breast he can,
As the first human heir of earth
With pensive eye himself survey'd, And, all unconscious of his birth,
Sate thoughtful oft in Eden's shade:
In pensive thought so Owen stray'd
Wild Carron's lonely woods among, And once, within their greenest glade, He fondly framed this simple song:
Why is this crook adorn'd with gold?
A silken vest like mine so green,
I know it is no shepherd's art
This bracelet bright that binds my arm-
And, O thou silent picture fair,
His little heart is large with love:
He sweetly hails his evening star, And fate's more pointed arrows move, Insidious from his eye afar.
Whom time leads calmly down to death.
"O tell me, parent, if thou art,
"What is this lovely picture dear? "Why wounds its mournful eye my heart, "Why flows from mine th' unbidden tear ?"
"Ah! youth! to leave thee loth am I, "Though I be not thy parent dear; "And would'st thou wish, or ere I die, "The story of thy birth to hear?
“But it will make thee much bewail, “And it will make thy fair eye swell" She said, and told the woesome tale, As sooth as shepherdess might tell.
The heart, that sorrow doom'd to share,
And finds full oft its ruin slow.
But when that seal is first impress'd,
When the young heart its pain shall try, For the soft, yielding, trembling breast, Oft seems the startled soul to fly. Yet fled not Owen's-wild amaze
In paleness clothed, and lifted hands, And horror's dread, unmeaning gaze, Mark the poor statue, as it stands. The simple guardian of his life
Look'd wistful for the tear to glide, But when she saw his tearless strife, Silent, she lent him one-and died. XXV.
"No, I am not a shepherd's boy," Awaking from his dream, he said, Ah, where is now the promised joy "Of this?-for ever, ever fled!
O picture dear! for her loved sake "How fondly could my heart bewail "My friendly shepherdess; O wake,
"And tell me more of this sad tale.
"O tell me more of this sad tale"No; thou enjoy thy gentle sleep! "And I will go to Lothian's vale, "And more than all her waters weep.
Owen to Lothian's vale is fled
Earl Barnard's lofty towers appear“O art thou there," the full heart said, "O! art thou there, my parent dear ♪” Yes, she is there: From idle state
Oft has she stolen her hour to weep; Think how she "by thy cradle sate,”
And how she "fondly saw thee sleep."
Now tries his trembling hand to frame
Reclined a dim tower clad with moss,
That languish'd for his partner's loss.
The hand that bore those lines of love,
"She comes not!—can she then delay ?" Cried the fair youth, and dropp'd a tear"Whatever filial love could
say, "To her I said, and call'd her dear.
"She comes-Oh! No-encircled round,
" "Tis some rude chief, with many a spear; "My hapless tale that Earl has found"Ah me! my heart! for her I fear."
His tender tale that Earl had read,
Or ere it reach'd his lady's eye, His dark brow wears a cloud of red, In rage he deems a rival nigh.
'Tis o'er-Those locks that waved in gold,
In horrid guise to Lothian's halls;
The fatal tokens forth he drew
"Know'st thou these-Ellen of the vale ?” The pictured bracelet soon she knew, And soon her lovely cheek grew pale.
The trembling victim straight he led,
Ere yet her soul's first fear was o'er : He pointed to the ghastly head
She saw-and sunk, to rise no more!