The Poem
| stanza | text | variant | footnote | line number |
| I | Seven Daughters had Lord Archibald, All children of one mother: You could not say in one short day What love they bore each other. A garland, of seven lilies, wrought! Seven Sisters that together dwell; But he, bold Knight as ever fought, Their Father, took of them no thought, He loved the wars so well. Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The solitude of Binnorie! | [1] | 5 10 | |
| II | Fresh blows the wind, a western wind, And from the shores of Erin, Across the wave, a Rover brave To Binnorie is steering: Right onward to the Scottish strand The gallant ship is borne; The warriors leap upon the land, And hark! the Leader of the band Hath blown his bugle horn. Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The solitude of Binnorie. | 15 20 | ||
| III | Beside a grotto of their own, With boughs above them closing, The Seven are laid, and in the shade They lie like fawns reposing. But now, upstarting with affright At noise of man and steed, Away they fly to left, to right— Of your fair household, Father-knight, Methinks you take small heed! Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The solitude of Binnorie. | 25 30 | ||
| IV | Away the seven fair Campbells fly, And, over hill and hollow, With menace proud, and insult loud, The youthful Rovers follow. Cried they, "Your Father loves to roam: Enough for him to find The empty house when he comes home; For us your yellow ringlets comb, For us be fair and kind!" Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The solitude of Binnorie. | [2] | 35 40 | |
| V | Some close behind, some side by side, Like clouds in stormy weather; They run, and cry, "Nay, let us die, And let us die together." A lake was near; the shore was steep; There never foot had been; They ran, and with a desperate leap Together plunged into the deep, Nor ever more were seen. Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The solitude of Binnorie. | [3] | 45 50 55 | |
| VI | The stream that flows out of the lake, As through the glen it rambles, Repeats a moan o'er moss and stone, For those seven lovely Campbells. Seven little Islands, green and bare, Have risen from out the deep: The fishers say, those sisters fair, By faeries all are buried there, And there together sleep. Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, The solitude of Binnorie. [Contents: Poems on the Naming of Places] [Main Contents] | 60 65 |
| 1836 | |
| I could ... | 1807 |
I could ...
| 1807 | |
| The Irish Rovers ... | MS. |
The Irish Rovers ...
| 1807 | |
| The sisters ran like mountain sheep | MS. |
| And in together did they leap | MS. |
The sisters ran like mountain sheep
And in together did they leap
It is a well-known Scottish Ballad. In Jamieson's Popular Ballads, vol. i. p. 50 (1806), its title is "The Twa Sisters." In Walter Scott's Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, vol. iii. p. 287, it is called "The Cruel Sisters." In The Ballads of Scotland, collected by W. Edmonstone Aytoun (1858), vol. i. p. 194, it is printed "Binnorie." In 1807 Wordsworth printed the sub-title The Solitude of Binnorie.—Ed.
In Dorothy Wordsworth's Grasmere Journal there is an entry, under date August 16, 1800,
"William read us The Seven Sisters."
It is uncertain whether this refers to his own poem or not, but I incline to think it does.—Ed.
In a MS. copy this note runs thus:
"This poem, in the groundwork of the story, is from the German of Frederica Brun."
Ed.
[Contents: Poems on the Naming of Places]
[Main Contents]