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Dennistoun Online: Scottish+Nursery+Songs
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The Peasant Bard.


A peasant bard, with song went forth
   To woo the maid he loved;
He sung, and won the maid,—but lo!
   All other hearts he moved.

His warm appeal did fondly steal
   Through bosoms far and near,
And distant hearts confessed the art
   Of him, their minstrel dear.

The planets, in their wondrous course,
   Shall bear his fame along;
The “ lingering star” still drops a tear
   To grief’s seraphic song.

The “unclouded moon” that shines aboon,
   In pure refulgent light,
From pole to pole shall stir the soul
   On every Lammas night.

The peasant’s brow no more shall low’r
   Beneath a lording’s scorn—
Their hearts enshrine the noble thoughts
   Of him, the cottage-born.



 



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