| Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury. 1875. |
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| Sir W. Scott |
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| CXCIV. The Rover |
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| "A WEARY lot is thine, fair maid, | |
| A weary lot is thine! | |
| To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, | |
| And press the rue for wine. | |
| A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, | 5 |
| A feather of the blue, | |
| A doublet of the Lincoln green— | |
| No more of me you knew, | |
| My love! | |
| No more of me you knew. | 10 |
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| "The morn is merry June, I trow, | |
| The rose is budding fain; | |
| But she shall bloom in winter snow | |
| Ere we two meet again." | |
| He turn'd his charger as he spake | 15 |
| Upon the river shore, | |
| He gave the bridle-reins a shake, | |
| Said, "Adieu for evermore, | |
| My love! | |
| And adieu for evermore." | 20 |
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