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I never felt such silence, as
The moon was struggling in the clouds,
As all alone
I bore him on,
I paused, and listened, as if I
And I could hear
The laugh and jeer
Oh ! how they laughed and rioted,
Oh! how that laugh stuck in my heart, Till from it leapt a sigh;
Then all alone
I bore him on
I laid him on our mother's grave,
Its branches spread
Above my head,
Then huriedly I scooped a grave;
Unto my breast
I closely prest,
And then I gazed upon his face,
Oh brother, who would once have thought,
But suddenly my heart beat quick,
And there upon a drooping bough,
I stood as fascinated fast,
I cannot tell how long I gazed,
Then hurriedly I filled the grave,
I laid the turf upon his head,
The old church clock,
With drowsy stroke,
And still at midnight's deepest hour,
For dreams, how true!
Come to renew
THE YOUNG RAKE; Or, Skinflint's Last Advice.
A Tavern Scene.
Come fill your bumpers to the brim,
And listen to my story;
We'll carry on the glory.
And may they ne'er consider, It's for sic rantin' roarin' boys,
They claut their gear thegither!
Weel lads I'm frae the Brig o' Dee,
My daddie was a miller; And dying, his advice to me,
Was—" Jock claut ye the siller!
As lang as ye hae plenty;
If ance the purse grows empty.