Poems by James Hyslop ... With a Sketch of his Life, and Notes on his Poems, By the Rev. Peter Mearns |
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| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. | LII.
To Anna.
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 | Poems by James Hyslop |  |
LII.
To Anna.
My dark-ey'd maid o' Scotland's isle,
Far in the northern sea!
Tho' round me foreign fair ones smile,
My heart still sighs for thee.
Far in the northern sea!
Tho' round me foreign fair ones smile,
My heart still sighs for thee.
199
'Tis nae the jewell'd hair o' jet,
Nor soft e'en o' the south,
Can ever make my soul forget
Thy fondness and thy truth.
Nor soft e'en o' the south,
Can ever make my soul forget
Thy fondness and thy truth.
In princely halls let ladies fair
In gold and jewels shine,
There's nane o' them can braid their hair
Sae gracefully as thine.
In gold and jewels shine,
There's nane o' them can braid their hair
Sae gracefully as thine.
Thy snawy neck, thy tartan plaid,
Thy bosom's cambric screen,
Are richer than the robes that deck
The world's loveliest queen.
Thy bosom's cambric screen,
Are richer than the robes that deck
The world's loveliest queen.
In heartless forms let maids o' rank
Their courtship pass away;
But, oh! gi'e me the hazel bank,
The summer gloamin' gray.
Their courtship pass away;
But, oh! gi'e me the hazel bank,
The summer gloamin' gray.
Thy saft brown hair, thy lips sae warm,
Thy cambric-shaded breast,
Thy tartan plaid, thy circling arm,—
Let love provide the rest.
Thy cambric-shaded breast,
Thy tartan plaid, thy circling arm,—
Let love provide the rest.
Oh! could I waft myself away
O'er waters wide and blue,
To spend ance mair youth's simmer day
Sae sweetly spent wi' you.
O'er waters wide and blue,
To spend ance mair youth's simmer day
Sae sweetly spent wi' you.
But, ah! the sever'd heart maun bleed,
When in a distant clime;
And vainly wish, but cannot speed,
The weary wing o' Time.
When in a distant clime;
And vainly wish, but cannot speed,
The weary wing o' Time.
Then, oh! my dear young Scottish maid!
Since nought remains for me,
I'll kiss thy little auburn braid,
And shed a tear for thee.
Since nought remains for me,
I'll kiss thy little auburn braid,
And shed a tear for thee.
When over Chilian seas the even
Its veil of darkness throws,
I will remember thee to Heaven,
And solace all my woes.
Its veil of darkness throws,
I will remember thee to Heaven,
And solace all my woes.
| Poems by James Hyslop | |