W. J. MICKLE. 1734-1788.
The dews of summer nights did fall,
The moon, sweet regent of the sky,[426:3]
Silvered the walls of Cumnor Hall
And many an oak that grew thereby.
Cumnor Hall.
For there 's nae luck about the house,
There 's nae luck at a';
[[427]]There 's little pleasure in the house
When our gudeman 's awa'.