Poems by James Hyslop ... With a Sketch of his Life, and Notes on his Poems, By the Rev. Peter Mearns |
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Scottish Song.
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 | Poems by James Hyslop |  |
II.
Scottish Song.
Now simmer's flow'rs o' loveliest hue
Are fadin' on the lea,
An' leaves, that lately hung sae green,
Fa' yellow frae the tree.
Now Nithsdale's weary russet woods
Are joyless a' an' drear,
While harvest's mournfu' gales lament
The dyin' o' the year.
Are fadin' on the lea,
An' leaves, that lately hung sae green,
Fa' yellow frae the tree.
Now Nithsdale's weary russet woods
Are joyless a' an' drear,
While harvest's mournfu' gales lament
The dyin' o' the year.
122
Where now the wee white-breastit flowers
That clad yon dewy brae?
An' where the little warblin' birds
That sang their cheerfu' lay?
An' where art thou, my ain lov'd youth,
Made a' thae joys sae dear,
That led me 'mang the scented birks
At bloomin' o' the year?
That clad yon dewy brae?
An' where the little warblin' birds
That sang their cheerfu' lay?
An' where art thou, my ain lov'd youth,
Made a' thae joys sae dear,
That led me 'mang the scented birks
At bloomin' o' the year?
When last the dewy primrose bloom'd
Aneath yon fadin' tree,
Whose green leaves screen'd my e'enin' walk,
My love first met wi' me;
That night how warm this bosom thrill'd
Wi' joy sae fond and dear,
Nor thocht o' lang an' dowie days
In the departin' year!
Aneath yon fadin' tree,
Whose green leaves screen'd my e'enin' walk,
My love first met wi' me;
That night how warm this bosom thrill'd
Wi' joy sae fond and dear,
Nor thocht o' lang an' dowie days
In the departin' year!
Then hinnied plaivens,
snawie white,
Were blawin' i' the breeze,
Now dreary winter's stormy blasts
Souch waefu' through the trees:
How like the flcetin' joys o' Love,
Ance to this heart sae dear,
Departed wi' the lovely flowers
That clad the bloomin' year!
Were blawin' i' the breeze,
Now dreary winter's stormy blasts
Souch waefu' through the trees:
How like the flcetin' joys o' Love,
Ance to this heart sae dear,
Departed wi' the lovely flowers
That clad the bloomin' year!
How sweetly bloom'd Love's flowerie bed
Where aft we twa reclin'd!
Her ringlets on that bosom spread
That was tae me sae kind;
Now unadorn'd thae locks may float
An' hide the fallin' tear,
He's gane wha often priz'd their charms
In the departed year.
Where aft we twa reclin'd!
Her ringlets on that bosom spread
That was tae me sae kind;
Now unadorn'd thae locks may float
An' hide the fallin' tear,
He's gane wha often priz'd their charms
In the departed year.
O happy days o' youthfu' love,
For ever fled away,
An' naethin' left to my young heart
But sadness now an' wae!
O Willie, will ye ne'er come back
To dry this fallin' tear,
An' bring me back the joys that fled
Wi' the departed year?
For ever fled away,
An' naethin' left to my young heart
But sadness now an' wae!
O Willie, will ye ne'er come back
To dry this fallin' tear,
An' bring me back the joys that fled
Wi' the departed year?
| Poems by James Hyslop | |