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   Chapter 127 SONG 127

The Lady of the Lake By Walter Scott Characters: 626

Updated: 2017-12-01 00:03


They bid me sleep, they bid me pray,

They say my brain is warped and wrung-

I cannot sleep on Highland brae,

530 I cannot pray in Highland tongue.

But were I now where Allan glides,note

Or heard my native Devan's tides,

So sweetly would I rest, and pray

That Heaven would close my wintry day!

535 'Twas thus my hair they bade me braid,

They made me to the church repair;

It was my bridal morn they said,

And my true love would meet me there.

But woe betide the cruel guile

540 That drowned in blood the morning smile!

And woe betide the fairy dream!

I only waked to sob and scream.

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