I grat an' I sabb'd, till I thocht life wad lea' me,
An' happy I then could ha'e parted wi' life—
For naething on earth sic enjoyment could gi'e me,
As the glee o' my bairn, an' smile o' my wife.
O weary the day was, when they were ta'en frae me—
Leavin' me lane, the last leaf on the tree;
Nae comfort the cauld look o' strangers can gi'e me,
I'm wae—an' they a' look as waefu' on me.
I wander me aften, to break melancholy,
On ilk thing that's lievin', the maxim I see,
Not walth to the weary 's like peace to the lowly,
Sae burden'd wi' grief, I maun gang till I dee.
Beechen Tree.
[William Fergusson.—Here first printed.]
Beechen tree, ye was green, green,
Warm winds blawin' your branches atween,
When 'neath your shade,
A simple maid!
I met wi' my fause love late at e'en.
Beechen tree, his vows ye heard,
Breathed saft in mony a sweet-waled word:
Wha e'er could reck
Sic vows would break?
Nae dreams o' a snare has the younglin' bird.
Beechen tree, ye are bare, bare;
Warm shelter now ye ha'e nane to spare—
As 'neath your shade,
Nae mair a maid,
I cower me down i' the cauld night air.
Beechen tree, the comin' spring
Will green leaves back to your branches bring:
But spring, alas!
May come an' pass,
But canna renew my flourishing.
Beechen tree, bare beechen tree,
The warld is fu' o' treacherie!
And I maist could pray
That, ere the day,
Alane at your auld root I might dee!
I'm wandering wide.
[William Fergusson.—Here for the first time printed.]
I'm wand'ring wide this wintery night,
But yet my heart's at hame,
Fu' cozie by my ain fire-cheek,
Beside my winsome dame.
The weary winds howl lang an' loud,
But, 'mid their howling drear,
Words sweeter far than honey blabs
Fa' saftly on my ear.
I'm wand'ring wide this wintery night,
I'm wand'ring wide an' far;
But love, to guide me back again,
Lights up a kindly star.
The lift glooms black aboon my head,
Nae friendly blink I see,
But let it gloom,—twa bonnie een
Glance bright to gladden me.
I'm wand'ring wide this wintery night,
I'm wand'ring wide an' late,
And ridgy wreaths afore me rise,
As if to bar my gate.
Around me swirls the sleety drift,
The frost bites dour an' keen.
But breathings warm frae lovin' lips
Come ilka gust atween.
I'm wand'ring wide this wintery night,
I'm wand'ring wide an' wild,
Alang a steep and eerie track
Where hills on hills are piled:
The torrent roars in wrath below,
The tempest roars aboon;
But fancy broods on brighter scenes,
And soughs a cheerin' tune.
I'm wand'ring wide this wintery night,
I'm wand'ring wide my lane,
And mony a langsome, lanesome mile
I'll measure ere it's gane.
But lanesome roads or langsome miles
Can never daunton me,
When I think on the welcome warm
That waits me, love, frae thee.
