 | Lyrical Poems |  |
246
MAY SONG.
On Ettrick bank the primrose grows,
Where the stream is winding clearly O!
Though the ash be grey, the birch is green,
And the birds are chanting cheerly O!
Thou weary heart, why nurse the smart
Of a fruitless grief so drearily?
What should thee stay, to greet the May,
Like a bird on the wing, so cheerily?
Cuckoo, cuckoo, far in the wood!
Sweet mavis on gowany lea!
O show me the trick of thy blithe May mood,
And teach me to sing with thee!
Where the stream is winding clearly O!
Though the ash be grey, the birch is green,
And the birds are chanting cheerly O!
Thou weary heart, why nurse the smart
Of a fruitless grief so drearily?
What should thee stay, to greet the May,
Like a bird on the wing, so cheerily?
Cuckoo, cuckoo, far in the wood!
Sweet mavis on gowany lea!
O show me the trick of thy blithe May mood,
And teach me to sing with thee!
247
Blow, softly, softly breezes blow!
For the wound is rankling greenly yet!
And for him who is gone, whom I fear to name,
The smart doth cut me keenly yet!
I laid him low, when in March the snow
O'er the sod was drifting drearily,
And how shall I sing, like a bird on the wing,
When the bright May sun shines cheerily?
Cuckoo, cuckoo, far in the wood!
Sweet mavis on gowany lea!
I love the sweet trick of thy blithe May mood,
But grief still dwells with me!
For the wound is rankling greenly yet!
And for him who is gone, whom I fear to name,
The smart doth cut me keenly yet!
I laid him low, when in March the snow
O'er the sod was drifting drearily,
And how shall I sing, like a bird on the wing,
When the bright May sun shines cheerily?
Cuckoo, cuckoo, far in the wood!
Sweet mavis on gowany lea!
I love the sweet trick of thy blithe May mood,
But grief still dwells with me!
| Lyrical Poems | |