SLEEP'ST THOU
I
Sleep'st thou, or wauk'st thou, fairest creature?
Rosy Morn now lifts his eye,
Numbering ilka bud, which Nature
Waters wi' the tears o' joy.
Now to the streaming fountain
Or up the heathy mountain
The hart, hind, and roe, freely, wildly-wanton stray;
In twining hazel bowers
His lay the linnet pours;
The laverock to the sky
Ascends wi' sangs o' joy,
While the sun and thou arise to bless the day!
II
Phœbus, gilding the brow of morning,
Banishes ilk darksome shade,
Nature gladdening and adorning:
Such to me my lovely maid!
When frae my Chloris parted,
Sad, cheerless, broken-hearted,
The night's gloomy shades, cloudy, dark, o'ercast my sky;
But when she charms my sight
In pride of Beauty's light,
When thro' my very heart
Her beaming glories dart,
'Tis then—'tis then I wake to life and joy!
