Scott's Lady of the Lake

by Walter Scott

All twinkling with the dewdrop sheen,[35]

The brier-rose fell in streamers green,

And creeping shrubs, of thousand dyes,

Waved in the west wind’s summer sighs.

XII.

Boon[36] nature scatter’d, free and wild,

Each plant or flower, the mountain’s child.

Here eglantine embalm’d the air,

Hawthorn and hazel mingled there;

The primrose pale and violet flower,