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Doubting, fearing
While his course he's steering,
Cottages appearing
As he's nigh to drop,
Oh! how briskly then the way-worn traveller
Treads the mazes t'ward the mountain's top.
While his course he's steering,
Cottages appearing
As he's nigh to drop,
Oh! how briskly then the way-worn traveller
Treads the mazes t'ward the mountain's top.
Though so melancholy day has passed by,
'Twould be folly now to think on't more:
Blythe and jolly he the cag holds fast by,
As he's sitting at the goat-herd's door,
Eating, quaffing,
At past labours laughing;
Better far, by half, in
Spirits than before.
Oh! how merrily the rested traveller
Seems, while sitting at the goat-herd's door.
'Twould be folly now to think on't more:
Blythe and jolly he the cag holds fast by,
As he's sitting at the goat-herd's door,
Eating, quaffing,
At past labours laughing;
Better far, by half, in
Spirits than before.
Oh! how merrily the rested traveller
Seems, while sitting at the goat-herd's door.
LAMENT FOR BURNS.
Lang fam'd Rab Burns, ilk lassie mourns,
ay since he's gane awa'
His presence did a' grief forbid,
he cheer'd the lasses a';
Nae mair he'll chant wi' neighbouring rant,
o'er flowing bowls at e'en,
ay since he's gane awa'
His presence did a' grief forbid,
he cheer'd the lasses a';
Nae mair he'll chant wi' neighbouring rant,
o'er flowing bowls at e'en,
