<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519713" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Maid of Toro</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">O, low shone the sun on the fair lake of Toro,<br>And weak were the whispers that waved the dark wood,<br>All as a fair maiden, bewilder'd in sorrow,<br>Sorely sigh'd to the breezes, and wept to the flood.<br>'O, saints! from the mansions of bliss lowly bending;<br>Now grant my petition, in anguish ascending,<br>My Henry restore, or let Eleanor die!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All distant and faint were the sounds of the battle,<br>With the breezes they rise, with the breezes they fail,<br>Till the shout, and the groan, and the conflict's dread rattle,<br>And the chase's wild clamour, came loading the gale.<br>Breathless she gazed on the woodlands so dreary;<br>Slowly approaching a warrior was seen;<br>Life's ebbing tide mark'd his footsteps so weary,<br>Cleft was his helmet, and woe was his mien.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O, save thee, fair maid, for our armies are flying!<br>O, save thee, fair maid, for thy guardian is low!<br>Deadly cold on yon heath thy brave Henry is lying,<br>Scarce could he falter the tidings of sorrow,<br>And scarce could she hear them, benumb'd with despair:<br>And when the sun sunk on the sweet lake of Toro,<br>For ever he set to the Brave and the Fair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sir+Walter+Scott">Sir Walter Scott</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519713" data-title="The Maid of Toro de Sir Walter Scott" data-description="O, low shone the sun on the fair lake of Toro, And weak were the whispers that waved the dark wood, All as a fair maiden, bewilder'd in sorrow, Sorely sigh'd to the breezes, and wept to the flood. 'O, saints! from the mansions of bliss lowly bendi..."></div> </div> </div>

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