The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, with memoir of the author.

THE
LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL.
CANTO THIRD.
I.
AND said I that my limbs were old,
And said I that my blood was cold,
And that my kindly fire was fled,
And my poor wither'd heart was dead,
And that I might not sing of love?How could I to the dearest theme,
That ever warm'd a minstrel's dream,
So foul, so false a recreant prove!
How could I name love's very name,
Nor wake my heart to notes of flame!
II.
In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed;
In war, he mounts the warrior's steed;