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Where Shall The Lover Rest a poem by Sir Walter Scott

WHERE SHALL THE LOVER REST
Sir Walter Scott 

Here shall the lover rest 
Whom the fates sever 
From his true maiden's breast 
Parted for ever? 
Where, through groves deep and high 
Sounds the far billow, 
Where early violets die 
Under the willow. 
Eleu loro 
Soft shall be his pillow. 

There through the summer day 
Cool streams are laving; 
There, while the tempests sway, 
Scarce are boughs waving; 
There thy rest shalt thou take, 
Parted for ever, 
Never again to wake, 
Never, O never! 
Eleu loro 
Never, O never! 

Where shall the traitor rest, 
He, the deceiver, 
Who could win maiden's breast, 
Ruin, and leave her? 
In the lost battle, 
Borne down by the flying, 
Where mingles war's rattle 
With groans of the dying; 
Eleu loro 
There shall he be lying. 

Her wing shall the eagle flap 
O'er the falsehearted; 
His warm blood the wolf shall lap 
Ere life be parted: 
Shame and dishonour sit 
By his grave ever; 
Blessing shall hallow it 
Never, O never! 
Eleu loro 
Never, O never! 

 

 
Where Shall The Lover Rest a poem by Sir Walter Scott

 

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