« AnteriorContinuar »
Fu’lightly rase I in the morn,
As blythe lay down at e'en :
And monie a traitor there;
And never-ending care.
My sister and my fae,
That thro' thy soul shall gae :
Was never known to thee;
Frae woman's pitying e'e.
Upon thy fortune shine!
That ne'er wad blink on mine!
Or-turn their hearts to thee;
Remember him for me!
Nae mair light up the morn!
Wave o'er the yellow corn!
Let wioter round me rave:
Bloom on my peaceful grave!
By fits the sun's departing beam
Tbat wav'd o'er Lugar's winding stream •
Beneath a craigy steep, a bard,
Laden with years and meikle pain, In loud lament bewail'd his lord,
Whom death had all untimely ta'en. He lean'd him to an ancient aik,
Whose trunk was mould'ring down with years ; His locks were bleached white with time,
His boary cheek was wet wi' tears;
And as he tun'd his doleful sang,
To echo bore the notes alang.-
The relics of the vernal quire !
The honours of the aged year!
Again ye'll charm the ear and e'e;
Can gladness bring again to me.
That long has stood the wind and rain ;
And my last hald of earth is gane : Nae leaf o' mine shall greet the spring,
Nae simmer sun exalt my bloom; But I maun lie before the storm,
And ithers plant them in my room. • I've seen sae mony changefu' years,
On earth I am a stranger growd; I wander in the ways of men,
Alike unknowing and unknown: Unheard, uppitied, unreliev'd,
I bear alane my lade o' care, For silent, low, on beds of dust,
Lie a' that would my sorrows share. • And last, (the sum of a' my griefs !)
My noble master lies in clay;
The flowers amang our barons bold,
His country's pride, his country's stay; In weary being now I pine,
For a the life of life' is dead, And hope has left my aged ken,
On forward wing for ever fled. "Awake thy last sad voice, my harp!
The voice of woe and wild despair! Awake, resound thy latest lay,
Then sleep in silence ever mair! And thou, my last, best, only friend,
Tbat fillest an untimely tomb, Accept this tribute from the bard
Thou brought from fortune's mirkest gloom.
' In poverty's low barren vale,
Thick mists, obscure, involv'd me round; Though oft 1 turn'd the wistful eye,
Nae'ray of fame was to be found : Thou found'st me, like the morning sun
That melts the fogs in limpid air; The friendless bard and rustic song
Became alike thy fostering care.
"O! why has worth so short a date,
While villains ripen grey with time? Must thou, the noble generous great,
Fall in bold manhood's hardy prime! Why did I live to see that day
A day to me so full of woe? 0! had I met the mortal shaft
Which laid my benefactor low !
« The bridegroom may forget the bride
Was made his wedded wife yestreen; The monarch may forget the crown
That on his head an hour has seen ; The mother may forget the child
That smiles sae sweetly on her kace But I'll remember thee, Glencairn,
And a' that thou hast done for me?'
TAM O' SHANTER.
Of Browngis and of Bogilis full is this buke.
WHEN chapman billies leave the street,
This truth fand honest Tam o' Shanter,
O Tam! hadst thou but been sae wise,
Or catch'd wi' warlocks in the mirk,
Ab, gentle dames! it gars me greet,
But to our tale : Ae market night,
Care, mad to see a man sae happy,
But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow-falls in the river, A moment white-then melts for ever; Or like the borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm.Nae man can tether time or tide; The hour approaches Tam maun ride; That hour, o' night's black arch the key stane, That dreary hour he mounts his beast in ;