hoarse along the shore.
all else was hush'd as nature's closed e'e;
the silent moon shone high o'er tower and tree;
the chilly frost, beh the silver beam,
crept, gently-crusting, o'er the glittering stream—
when, lo! oher hand the list'ning bard,
the g sugh of whistling wings is heard;
two dusky forms dart through the midnight air;
swift as the gos drives on the wheeling hare;
ane on th' auld brig his airy shape uprears,
the other flutters o'er the rising piers:
our warlock rhymer instantly dexcried
the sprites that owre the brig
The Brigs Of Ayr(6/20)