Poetry of Cunningham
Allan Cunningham
born 1784, died 1842 |
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My Gentle Hugh Herries
Go seek in the wild glen,
Where streamlets are falling, -
Go seek on the lone hill,
Where curlews are calling, -
Go seek where the clear stars
Shine down without number,
For there ye will find him
My true love in slumber.
They sought in the wild glen -
The glen was forsaken;
They sought on the mountain,
'Mang lang lady bracken;
And sore, sore they hunted
My true love to find him,
With the strong bands of iron
To fetter and bind him.
Yon green hill I 'll give thee
Where falcons are flying,
To shew me the den, where
This bold traitor 's lying -
O make me of Nithsdale's
Fair princedom the heiress,
Is that worth one smile of
My gentle Hugh Herries?
The white bread, the sweet milk,
And ripe fruits I found him,
And safe in my fond arms,
I clasp'd, and I wound him:
I warn you - go not where
My true lover tarries,
For sharp smites the sword of
My gentle Hugh Herries.
They rein'd their proud war-steeds,
Away they went sweeping,
Behind them dames wail'd, and
Fair maidens went weeping;
But deep in you wild glen,
'Mang banks of blae-berries,
I dwell with my loved one,
My gentle Hugh Herries.
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