The Poetry of Robert Burns Edited by William Ernest Henley and Thomas F. Henderson |
 | I. |
| 2. |
 | III. |
NOW SPRING HAS CLAD |
| IV. |
 | The Poetry of Robert Burns |  |
NOW SPRING HAS CLAD
I
Now spring has clad the grove in green,And strew'd the lea wi' flowers;
The furrow'd, waving corn is seen
Rejoice in fostering showers;
While ilka thing in nature join
Their sorrows to forego,
O, why thus all alone are mine
The weary steps o' woe!
II
The trout within yon wimpling burnGlides swift, a silver dart,
And, safe beneath the shady thorn,
Defies the angler's art:
247
That wanton trout was I,
But Love wi' unrelenting beam
Has scorch'd my fountains dry.
III
The little floweret's peaceful lot,In yonder cliff that grows,
Which, save the linnet's flight, I wot,
Nae ruder visit knows,
Was mine, till Love has o'er me past,
And blighted a' my bloom;
And now beneath the withering blast
My youth and joy consume.
IV
The waken'd lav'rock warbling springs,And climbs the early sky,
Winnowing blythe his dewy wings
In Morning's rosy eye:
As little reck't I Sorrow's power,
Until the flowery snare
O' witching Love in luckless hour
Made me the thrall o' care!
V
O, had my fate been Greenland snowsOr Afric's burning zone,
Wi' Man and Nature leagu'd my foes,
So Peggy ne'er I'd known!
248
What tongue his woes can tell,
Within whose bosom, save Despair,
Nae kinder spirits dwell!
| The Poetry of Robert Burns | |