<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519716" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Orphan Maid</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">November's hail-cloud drifts away, <br>November's sunbeam wan <br>Looks coldly on the castle grey, <br>When forth comes Lady Anne.<br>The orphan by the oak was set, <br>Her arms, her feet, were bare; <br>The hail drops had not melted yet, <br>Amid her raven hair.<br>'And, dame,' she said, 'by all the ties <br>That child and mother know, <br>Aid one who never knew these joys, <br>Relieve an orphan's woe.'<br>The lady said, 'An orphan's state <br>Is hard and sad to bear; <br>Yet worse the widow'd mother's fate <br>Who mourns both lord and heir.<br>'Twelve times the rolling year has sped, <br>Since, when from vengeance wild <br>Of fierce Strathallan's Chief I fled <br>Forth's eddies whelm'd my child.'<br>'Twelve times the year its course has borne,' <br>The wandering maid replied; <br>'Since fishers on Saint Bridget's morn <br>Drew nets on Campsie side.<br>'Saint Bridget sent no scaly spoil; <br>An infant, wellnigh dead, <br>They saved, and rear'd in want and toil, <br>To beg from you her bred.'<br>That orphan maid the lady kiss'd,-— <br>'My husband's looks you bear; <br>Saint Bridget and her morn be bless'd! <br>You are his widow's heir.'<br>They've robed that maid, so poor and pale <br>In silk and sandals rare; <br>And pearls, for drops of frozen hail, <br>Are glistening in her hair.</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=519716" data-title="The Orphan Maid de Sir Walter Scott" data-description="November's hail-cloud drifts away, November's sunbeam wan Looks coldly on the castle grey, When forth comes Lady Anne. The orphan by the oak was set, Her arms, her feet, were bare; The hail drops had not melted yet, Amid her raven hair. 'And..."></div> </div> </div>

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