 | Orellana and Other Poems |  |
161
SIMMER LOST:
A SIGH FOR SANDIE IN NEW ZEALAND.
Hoo sweet were simmer i' the woods,
Or doon the burnie clear,
—In a' her haunts, in a' her moods,—
If, Sandie, you were here.
Or doon the burnie clear,
—In a' her haunts, in a' her moods,—
If, Sandie, you were here.
Then doobly graun the wastlin braes
Wad glow at gloamin-tide,
An' redder wad the mornin' rays
Rin up the plantin-side.
Wad glow at gloamin-tide,
An' redder wad the mornin' rays
Rin up the plantin-side.
An' bonnier owre the loch wad creep
The dimplin' waves sae sma',
An' wins less wantonlie wad sweep
The young green leaves awa'.
The dimplin' waves sae sma',
An' wins less wantonlie wad sweep
The young green leaves awa'.
162
And I should look wi' clearer een
Aboot me an' before,
An' cease to think o' simmers, been
To be again no more.
Aboot me an' before,
An' cease to think o' simmers, been
To be again no more.
It's simmer yet, an' yet a'most
I mourn the simmer gane,
An' feel as if its joys were lost
Lavisht on me mylane.
I mourn the simmer gane,
An' feel as if its joys were lost
Lavisht on me mylane.
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