The Excursion

The solitary Reaper, when she tunes
Her questing voice of melody,
Doth challenge all the Highland lasses
To bring her down, and beat her.

No competitor, no rival near,
Her sad song fills the air,
And fills the heart with sorrow, and
With longing for the past.

The vale, outstretched in sun and shade,
The stream that murmurs by,
The mountain, with its misty head,
The vast and boundless sky,

All these, and more, did fill my heart
With joy and sweet content,
And I did bless the hour that brought
Me, hither, to be sent.