THE WINTER OF LIFE
I
But lately seen in gladsome green,
The woods rejoiced the day;
Thro' gentle showers the laughing flowers
In double pride were gay;
But now our joys are fled
On winter blasts awa,
Yet maiden May in rich array
Again shall bring them a'.
II
But my white pow—nae kindly thowe
Shall melt the snaws of Age!
My trunk of eild, but buss and bield,
Sinks in Time's wintry rage.
O, Age has weary days
And nights o' sleepless pain!
Thou golden time o' youthfu' prime,
Why comes thou not again?
