The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith ... Revised by the Author: Coll. ed. |
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DAMIEN AND MARION CUNNINGHAM |
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 | The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith |  |
DAMIEN AND MARION CUNNINGHAM
It's oh the bonnie Tynron braes
Where the broom grows high and green,
And the ivied wall and the birchtree tall,
And the burn that runs between;
Where, in the dewy gloaming light,
So oft our tryst had been.
Where the broom grows high and green,
And the ivied wall and the birchtree tall,
And the burn that runs between;
Where, in the dewy gloaming light,
So oft our tryst had been.
The stars came forth to watch us there,
And smile upon our bliss;
The small birds and the wanton hare,
They shared our joy, I wis;
There were no other eyes to care
How fondly we might kiss.
And smile upon our bliss;
The small birds and the wanton hare,
They shared our joy, I wis;
There were no other eyes to care
How fondly we might kiss.
My love was lord of Abingdon,
And I was a Glencairn;
But true love levels all, and none
Its blessedness may learn,
Who will not pass, as lad and lass,
Among the broom and fern.
And I was a Glencairn;
But true love levels all, and none
Its blessedness may learn,
Who will not pass, as lad and lass,
Among the broom and fern.
Still far below the waters flow,
Low-whispering as they move,
And the mavis still, at his sweet will,
Sings high on the tree above—
He sings the same song o'er and o'er,
As we did with our love.
Low-whispering as they move,
And the mavis still, at his sweet will,
Sings high on the tree above—
He sings the same song o'er and o'er,
As we did with our love.
And still the primrose pranks the braes
When spring is in the air,
And still the broom is in a blaze
When young birds flutter there;
But the scented broom and its golden bloom
Are heavy with grief and care.
When spring is in the air,
And still the broom is in a blaze
When young birds flutter there;
But the scented broom and its golden bloom
Are heavy with grief and care.
No more they speak about love and hope,
As they did so fondly then,
But of a host that pine and drop,
All fainting, famished men,
And a lonely grave by the breaking wave
On the shore of Damien.
As they did so fondly then,
But of a host that pine and drop,
All fainting, famished men,
And a lonely grave by the breaking wave
On the shore of Damien.
| The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith | |