The Elleree.[1]

A SONG OF SECOND SIGHT.


Elleree! O Elleree!
Seeing what none else may see,
Dost thou see the man in grey?
Dost thou hear the night hounds bay?
Elleree! O Elleree!
Seventh son of seventh son,
All thy thread of life is spun,
Thy little race is nearly run,
And death awaits for thee!

Elleree! O Elleree!
Coronach shall wail for thee;
Get thee shrived and get thee blest,
Get thee ready for thy rest,
Elleree! O Elleree!
That thou owest quickly give,
What thou ownest thou must leave,
And those thou lovest best shall grieve,
But all in vain for thee!

"Bodach Glas!"^[2] the chieftain said,
"All my debts but one are paid,
All I love have long been dead,
All my hopes on Heaven are stay'd,
Death to me can bring no dole;"
Thus the Elleree replied;--
But with ebbing of the tide
As sinks the setting sun he died;--
May Christ receive his soul!

Juliana Horatia Ewing

Juliana Horatia Ewing was an English writer of children's stories, known for her pioneering work in the genre. Born on August 3, 1841, she was the daughter of Margaret Gatty, herself a noted British writer. Juliana's works were marked by their imaginative quality and their combination of adventure and moral lessons, making significant contributions to children's literature of the Victorian era. Her acclaimed works include 'Jackanapes,' 'Daddy Darwin's Dovecot,' and 'The Story of a Short Life.' She passed away on May 13, 1885.

Juliana Horatia Ewing

Dolly's Lullaby.

Juliana Horatia Ewing, Simple Poetry

The Adventures Of An Elf.

Juliana Horatia Ewing, Simple Poetry

Blue And Red: Or, The Discontented Lobster.

Juliana Horatia Ewing, Simple Poetry

The Lily Of The Lake.

Juliana Horatia Ewing, Simple Poetry

English

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Th' sun wor settin, - red an gold,
Wi splendor paintin th' west,
An purplin tints throo th' valley roll'd,
As daan he sank to rest.
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A world soa sweet an fair,
Wol silent burds a pathway cleave,
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Aw stroll'd along a country rooad,
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Claud Halcro's Song

Farewell to Northmaven,
Grey Hillswicke, farewell!
The storms on thy haven,
The storms on thy fell,
To each breeze that can vary
The mood of thy main,
And to thee, bonny Mary!
We meet not again!

Farewell the wild ferry,
Which Hacon could brave,
When the peaks of the Skerry
Where white in the wave.
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These wild waves in vain,
For the skiff of her lover,
He comes not again!

The vows thou hast broke,
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On the quicksand and rock
Let the mermaidens sing them.
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Bewildering strain;
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The High Tide On The Coast Of Lincolnshire.

(1571.)


The old mayor climbed the belfry tower,
The ringers ran by two, by three;
"Pull, if ye never pulled before;
Good ringers, pull your best," quoth he.
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Ply all your changes, all your swells,
Play uppe 'The Brides of Enderby.'"

Men say it was a stolen tyde -
The Lord that sent it, He knows all;
But in myne ears doth still abide
The message that the bells let fall:
And there was nought of strange, beside
The nights of mews and peewits pied
By millions crouched on the old sea wall.

I sat and spun within the doore,
My thread brake off, I raised myne eyes;
The level sun, like ruddy ore,
Lay sinking in the barren skies;
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She moved where Lindis w...

Jean Ingelow