Poems and songs By the late Richard Gall. With a memoir of the author |
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THE BRAES O' DRUMLEE. |
 | Poems and songs |  |
121
THE BRAES O' DRUMLEE.
Ere eild wi' his blatters had warsled me down,
Or reft me o' life's youthfu' bloom,
How aft hae I gane, wi' a heart louping light,
To the knowes yellow tappit wi' broom!
How aft hae I sat i' the beild o' the knowe,
While the laverock mounted sae hie,
An' the mavis sang sweet in the plantings around,
On the bonny green Braes o' Drumlee!
Or reft me o' life's youthfu' bloom,
How aft hae I gane, wi' a heart louping light,
To the knowes yellow tappit wi' broom!
How aft hae I sat i' the beild o' the knowe,
While the laverock mounted sae hie,
An' the mavis sang sweet in the plantings around,
On the bonny green Braes o' Drumlee!
But, ah! while we daff in the sunshine o' youth,
We see na the blasts that destroy;
We count na upon the fell waes that may come,
An' eithly o'ercloud a' our joy.
I saw na the fause face that Fortune can wear,
Till forced frae my country to flee,
Wi' a heart like to burst, while I sobbed “Fareweel
“To the bonny green Braes o' Drumlee!
We see na the blasts that destroy;
We count na upon the fell waes that may come,
An' eithly o'ercloud a' our joy.
I saw na the fause face that Fortune can wear,
Till forced frae my country to flee,
Wi' a heart like to burst, while I sobbed “Fareweel
“To the bonny green Braes o' Drumlee!
122
“Fareweel, ye dear haunts o' the days o' my youth,
“Ye woods an' ye valleys sae fair;
“Ye'll bloom whan I wander abroad like a ghaist,
“Sair niddered wi' sorrow an' care.
“Ye woods an' ye valleys, I part wi' a sigh,
“While the flood it pours down frae my ee;
“For never again shall the tear weet my cheek,
“On the bonny green Braes o' Drumlee.
“Ye woods an' ye valleys sae fair;
“Ye'll bloom whan I wander abroad like a ghaist,
“Sair niddered wi' sorrow an' care.
“Ye woods an' ye valleys, I part wi' a sigh,
“While the flood it pours down frae my ee;
“For never again shall the tear weet my cheek,
“On the bonny green Braes o' Drumlee.
“O Time, could I tether your hours for a wee!
“Na, na, for they flit like the wind!”—
Sae I took my departure, an' sauntered awa,
Yet aften looked wistfu' behind.
O sair is the heart o' the mither to twin
Wi' the baby that sits on her knee;
But sairer the pang, whan I took a last peep
O' the bonny green Braes o' Drumlee.
“Na, na, for they flit like the wind!”—
Sae I took my departure, an' sauntered awa,
Yet aften looked wistfu' behind.
O sair is the heart o' the mither to twin
Wi' the baby that sits on her knee;
But sairer the pang, whan I took a last peep
O' the bonny green Braes o' Drumlee.
I heftit 'mang strangers years thretty-an'-twa,
But naething could banish my care;
An' aften I sighed whan I thought on the past,
Whare a' was sae pleasant an' fair:
But now, wae's my heart! whan I'm lyart an' auld,
An' fu' lint-white my haffet-locks flee,
I'm hamewards returned wi' a remnant o' life,
To the bonny green Braes o' Drumlee.
But naething could banish my care;
123
Whare a' was sae pleasant an' fair:
But now, wae's my heart! whan I'm lyart an' auld,
An' fu' lint-white my haffet-locks flee,
I'm hamewards returned wi' a remnant o' life,
To the bonny green Braes o' Drumlee.
Poor body! Bewildered, I scarcely dow ken
The haunts that were dear ance to me;
I yirded a plant in the days o' my youth,
An' the mavis now sings on the tree.
But, haith! there's nae scenes I wad niffer wi' thae;
For it fills my fond heart fu' o' glee,
To think how at last my auld banes they will rest
Near the bonny green Braes o' Drumlee.
The haunts that were dear ance to me;
I yirded a plant in the days o' my youth,
An' the mavis now sings on the tree.
But, haith! there's nae scenes I wad niffer wi' thae;
For it fills my fond heart fu' o' glee,
To think how at last my auld banes they will rest
Near the bonny green Braes o' Drumlee.
| Poems and songs | |