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C L U T H A.
Tune—’Miss Admiral Gordon’s Strathspey.
O Clutha! wild thy banks appear,
And saft thy waters glide,
And lasses, kind, and blythe, and fair
Adorn thy wooded side.
They ken na me, they lo’e na me,
Tho‘ a‘ sae sweet and gay;
Fu’ blythe they be, and kythe they be.
But I am doylt and wae.
How touching saft the gloamin’s gleam.
On tufted knowe and fell,
When o’er the brae the sunnie beam
Sae mildly glints farewell.
When dusky vapours slowly row,
Alang the waveless tide,
gathrin’ cluds o' leaden hue,
Hang on the mountain's side.
Tho' placid be the closin’ scene
A gloamin’s silent hour.
Around my breast nae rays serene
The joys o' e'enin pour;
As things are gay, but l am wae.
They smile, but I repine;
