 | Poems |  |
305
BALLAD.
“Do you think of the days that are gone, Jeanie?
As ye sit by your fire at night,
Do ye wish that the Morn might bring back the time,
When your heart and your step were light?”
As ye sit by your fire at night,
Do ye wish that the Morn might bring back the time,
When your heart and your step were light?”
“I think of the days that are gone, Robin,
And all that I joyed in them,
But the fairest that ever arose on me
I have never wished back again.”
And all that I joyed in them,
But the fairest that ever arose on me
I have never wished back again.”
“Do you think of the hopes that are gone, Jeanie?
As ye sit by your fire at night,
Do ye reckon them o'er, as they faded fast,
Like buds in an early blight?”
As ye sit by your fire at night,
Do ye reckon them o'er, as they faded fast,
Like buds in an early blight?”
“I think of the hopes that are gone, Robin,
But I mourn not their stay was fleet,
For they fell as the leaves of the red Rose fall,
That even in fading are sweet.”
But I mourn not their stay was fleet,
For they fell as the leaves of the red Rose fall,
That even in fading are sweet.”
306
“Do ye think of the friends that are gone, Jeanie?
As ye sit by your fire at night,
Do ye wish they were round you again once more,
By the hearth that they made so bright?”
As ye sit by your fire at night,
Do ye wish they were round you again once more,
By the hearth that they made so bright?”
“I think of the friends that are gone, Robin,
They are dear to my heart as then,
But the best and the dearest among them all,
I have never wished back again!”
They are dear to my heart as then,
But the best and the dearest among them all,
I have never wished back again!”
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