In that green wene Kilmeny lay, Her bosom happed wi’ the flowerets gay; But the air was soft and the silence deep, And bonny Kilmeny fell sound asleep. She kend nae mair, nor opened her e’e, Till waked by the hymns of a far countrye.
She ’wakened on a couch of the silk sae slim, All striped wi’ the bars of the rainbow’s rim; And lovely beings round were rife, Who erst had travelled mortal life; And aye they smiled, and ’gan to speer, “What spirit has brought this mortal here!”
“Lang have I journeyed the world wide,” A meek and reverend Fere replied; “Baith night and day I have watched the fair, Eident a thousand years and mair. Yes, I have watched o’er ilk degree, Wherever blooms femenitye; But sinless virgin, free of stain In mind and body, fand I nane. Never, since the banquet of time, Found I a virgin in her prime, Till late this bonny maiden I saw As spotless as the morning snaw: Full twenty years she has lived as free As the spirits that sojourn in this countrye: I have brought her away frae the snares of men, That sin or death she never may ken.”--
They clasped her waist and her hands sae fair, They kissed her cheek, and they kemed her hair, And round came many a blooming Fere, Saying, “Bonny Kilmeny, ye’re welcome here! Women are freed of the littand scorn: O, blessed be the day Kilmeny was born! Now shall the land of the spirits see, Now shall it ken what a woman may be! Many a lang year in sorrow and pain, Many a lang year through the world we’ve gane, Commissioned to watch fair womankind, For it’s they who nurice the immortal mind. We have watched their steps as the dawning shone, And deep in the green-wood walks alone; By lily bower and silken bed, The viewless tears have o’er them shed; Have soothed their ardent minds to sleep, Or left the couch of love to weep. We have seen! we have seen! but the time must come, And the Angels will weep at the day of doom!
“O, would the fairest of mortal kind Aye keep the holy truths in mind, That kindred spirits their motions see, Who watch their ways with anxious e’e, And grieve for the guilt of humanitye! O, sweet to Heaven the maiden’s prayer, And the sigh that heaves a bosom sae fair! And dear to Heaven the words of truth, And the praise of virtue frae beauty’s mouth! And dear to the viewless forms of air, The minds that kythe as the body fair!