Honister Crag, Cumberland
Letitia Elizabeth Landon 1802 (Chelsea) – 1838 (Cape Coast)
In this wild and picturesque glen a skirmish took place between the Elliotts and the Graemes, in which the young leader of the Scottish clan was slain, though his party were victorious. They buried him in an opening on the hillside ; and every clansman brought a fragment of rock, to raise a rude monument to his honour. On the summit of the pile they placed his bonnet, shield, and claymore, that neither friend nor foe should pass irreverently the youthful warrior’s grave.”
Not where the green grass hides
His kindred before him ;
Not where his native trees
Droop to deplore him ;
But in the stranger’s land
Must we bestow him.
Leave there his sword and shield,
That all may know him.
Never was fairer youth,
Never was bolder ;
Who would have met his sword
A few summers older !
Ne’er will our chieftain’s line
Yield such another ;
Who can, amid us all !
Tell it his mother.
The country in this part is filled with traditions that record, and ballads that celebrate anecdotes of the predatory warfare then so general. The following ballad was communicated to me by a friend, who has the usual vivid memory of childhood on subjects connected with its early impressions. Not only has it never been published, but it is so curious and quaint, that I cannot resist its insertion here. At least, it is illustrative of the wild scenery haunted by yet wilder memories.
LONG LONKIN.
THE lord said to his ladie,
As he mounted his horse,
Beware of Long Lonkin
That lies in the moss.
The lord said to his ladie
As he rode away,
Beware of Long Lonkin,
That lies in the clay.
What care I for Lonkin,
Or any of his gang,
My doors are all shut,
And my windows penn’d in ?
There were six little windows,
And they were all shut,
But one little window,
And that was forgot.
* * * * * * *
* * * * *
And at that little window
Long Lonkin crept in.
Where’s the lord of the hall ?
Says the Lonkin ;
He’s gone up to London,
Says Orange to him.
Where are the men of the hall ?
Says the Lonkin ;
They are at the field ploughing,
Says Orange to him.
Where are the maids of the hall ?
Says the Lonkin ;
They are at the well, washing,
Says Orange to him.
Where are the ladies of the hall ?
Says the Lonkin ;
They are up in their chambers,
Says Orange to him.
How shall we get them down ?
Says the Lonkin ;
Prick the babe in the cradle,
Says Orange to him.
Rock well my cradle,
And be-ba my son ;
You shall have a new gown
When the lord he comes home.
Still she did prick it,
And be-ba she cried ;
Come down, dearest mistress,
And still your own child.
Oh! still my child Orange,
Still him with a bell ;
I can’t still him, ladie,
Till you come down yoursell.
Hold the gold bason
For your heart’s blood to run in ;
* * * * * * *
* * * * *
To hold the gold bason,
It grieves me full sore ;
Oh, kill me, dear Lonkin,
And let my mother go.
* * * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * * * *
* * * * *
Font size:
Submitted by Madeleine Quinn on November 09, 2016
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:48 min read
- 91 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | x xabacaxa xdxdedfd b CxEx CgEg ehij xikx kj fElA fEhA fExA fExA mEnA nlmx xxxx xxcf lj lxek |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 3,068 |
Words | 560 |
Stanzas | 20 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 8, 8, 1, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
Translation
Find a translation for this poem in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Honister Crag, Cumberland" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 30 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/45267/honister-crag,-cumberland>.
Discuss the poem Honister Crag, Cumberland with the community...
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In