 | Lyrical Poems |  |
217
THE OLD SOLDIER OF THE GARELOCH HEAD.
I've wander'd east and west,
And a soldier I hae been;
The scars upon my breast
Tell the wars that I have seen.
But now I'm old and worn,
And my locks are thinly spread,
And I'm come to die in peace,
By the Gareloch Head.
And a soldier I hae been;
The scars upon my breast
Tell the wars that I have seen.
But now I'm old and worn,
And my locks are thinly spread,
And I'm come to die in peace,
By the Gareloch Head.
When I was young and strong,
Oft a wandering I would go,
By the rough shores of Loch Long,
Up to lone Glencroe.
But now I'm fain to rest,
And my resting-place I've made,
On the green and gentle bosom
Of the Gareloch Head.
Oft a wandering I would go,
By the rough shores of Loch Long,
Up to lone Glencroe.
But now I'm fain to rest,
And my resting-place I've made,
218
Of the Gareloch Head.
'Twas here my Jeanie grew,
Like a lamb amid the flocks,
With her eyes of bonnie blue,
And her gowden locks.
And here we often met,
When with lightsome foot we sped,
O'er the green and grassy knolls,
At the Gareloch Head.
Like a lamb amid the flocks,
With her eyes of bonnie blue,
And her gowden locks.
And here we often met,
When with lightsome foot we sped,
O'er the green and grassy knolls,
At the Gareloch Head.
'Twas here she pined and died—
O! the salt tear in my e'e
Forbids my heart to hide
What Jeanie was to me!
'Twas here my Jeanie died,
And they scoop'd her lowly bed,
'Neath the green and grassy turf,
At the Gareloch Head.
O! the salt tear in my e'e
Forbids my heart to hide
What Jeanie was to me!
'Twas here my Jeanie died,
And they scoop'd her lowly bed,
'Neath the green and grassy turf,
At the Gareloch Head.
Like a leaf in leafy June,
From the leafy forest torn,
She fell; and I'll fall soon,
Like a sheaf of yellow corn.
For I'm sere and weary now,
And I soon shall make my bed
With my Jeanie, 'neath the turf
At the Gareloch Head.
From the leafy forest torn,
She fell; and I'll fall soon,
Like a sheaf of yellow corn.
219
And I soon shall make my bed
With my Jeanie, 'neath the turf
At the Gareloch Head.
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