 | Poems |  |
95
THE FLOWER OF AIRLIE.
When daisies in the desert start
To welcome back the Spring,
And hopes that haunt the youthful heart
For very gladness sing,
There came to Airlie's castle old
A maid of beauty rare,
No sweeter flower the woods unfold
Woo'd the dim April air.
To welcome back the Spring,
And hopes that haunt the youthful heart
For very gladness sing,
There came to Airlie's castle old
A maid of beauty rare,
No sweeter flower the woods unfold
Woo'd the dim April air.
O hazelly glen, or leafy grove,
Or blooming river shore,—
Whatever haunt the Muses love
This maiden flower that bore,—
The day that took this flower from thee,
It was a doleful morn;
The sweet birds sang on every tree
“Oh! Maggie, yet return!”
Or blooming river shore,—
Whatever haunt the Muses love
This maiden flower that bore,—
The day that took this flower from thee,
It was a doleful morn;
The sweet birds sang on every tree
“Oh! Maggie, yet return!”
Now were that bonnie flow'ret mine
To shelter and to tend,
Though every hope in quick decline
Should now and here have end,
How lightly would I let them go
For one so dear and fair!
How lightly feel the weightiest woe
With Maggie for my care!
To shelter and to tend,
96
Should now and here have end,
How lightly would I let them go
For one so dear and fair!
How lightly feel the weightiest woe
With Maggie for my care!
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