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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ellen Irwin</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Fair Ellen Irwin, when she sate <br>Upon the braes of Kirtle, <br>Was lovely as a Grecian maid <br>Adorned with wreaths of myrtle; <br>Young Adam Bruce beside her lay, <br>And there did they beguile the day <br>With love and gentle speeches, <br>Beneath the budding beeches. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">From many knights and many squires <br>The Bruce had been selected; <br>And Gordon, fairest of them all, <br>By Ellen was rejected. <br>Sad tidings to that noble Youth! <br>For it may be proclaimed with truth, <br>If Bruce hath loved sincerely, <br>That Gordon loves as dearly. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But what are Gordon's form and face, <br>His shattered hopes and crosses, <br>To them, 'mid Kirtle's pleasant braes, <br>Reclined on flowers and mosses? <br>Alas that ever he was born! <br>The Gordon, couched behind a thorn, <br>Sees them and their caressing; <br>Beholds them blest and blessing. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Proud Gordon, maddened by the thoughts <br>That through his brain are travelling, <br>Rushed forth, and at the heart of Bruce <br>He launched a deadly javelin! <br>Fair Ellen saw it as it came, <br>And, starting up to meet the same, <br>Did with her body cover <br>The Youth, her chosen lover. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And, falling into Bruce's arms, <br>Thus died the beauteous Ellen, <br>Thus, from the heart of her True-love, <br>The mortal spear repelling. <br>And Bruce, as soon as he had slain <br>The Gordon, sailed away to Spain; <br>And fought with rage incessant <br>Against the Moorish crescent. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But many days, and many months, <br>And many years ensuing, <br>This wretched Knight did vainly seek <br>The death that he was wooing. <br>So, coming his last help to crave, <br>Heart-broken, upon Ellen's grave <br>His body he extended, <br>And there his sorrow ended. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=539972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Now ye, who willingly have heard <br>The tale I have been telling, <br>May in Kirkconnel churchyard view <br>The grave of lovely Ellen: <br>By Ellen's side the Bruce is laid; <br>And, for the stone upon his head, <br>May no rude hand deface it, <br>And its forlorn "Hie jacet"!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=William+Wordsworth">William Wordsworth</a></strong></div>