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The weary Sun betook himself to rest.
Outshining like a visible God
The glorious path in which he trod. And now, ascending, after one dark hour, And one night's diminution of her power,
Behold the mighty Moon! this way
She looks as if at them but they
The silent Heavens have goings-on ;
She had a tall Man's height, or more;
What other dress she had I could not know; Only she wore a Cap that was as white as snow.
In all my walks, through field or town,
To head those ancient Amazonian files:
And yet a boon I gave her; for the Creature
I left her, and pursued my way;
The Taller followed with his hat in hand,
The Other wore a rimless crown,
Two Brothers seemed they, eight and ten years old; And like that Woman's face as gold is like to gold.
They bolted on me thus, and lo!
“That cannot be," one answer'd, “She is dead." “ Nay but I gave her pence, and she will buy you bread.”
“She has been dead, Sir, many a day.”
“Come, come!” cried one; and, without more ado, Off to some other play they both together flew.
(See the various Poems the Scene of which is laid upon the Banks of the Yarrow; in particular, the exquisite Ballad of Hamilton, beginning
“ Busk ye, busk ye my bonny, bonny Bride,
FROM Stirling Castle we had seen