Wi' a glance o' the e'e her misfortune we trace
In the cap that encircles her bonnie sweet face,
That ance glow'd wi' gladness;—now meek and resign'd;
Though the shadows of sorrow aft brood o'er her mind.
A few fleeting months saw her blythsome and gay;
But death reft her loved one, for ever away!
O think on the anguish—the agony keen—
When her grief and his grave turf were baith alike green!
Wer't no for her darling, the widow wad dee—
The bonnie wee bairnie that sits on her knee;
That smiles in her pale face, and pu's at her hair—
But, it's sae like its daddy, she canna despair.
Adieu.
[Written by Burns aa a farewell to the brethren of St. James's Lodge, Tarbolton, when the poet contemplated going to the West Indies.—Tune, "Good night an' joy be wi' you a'."]
Adieu! a heart-warm fond adieu!
Dear brothers of the mystic tie!
Ye favour'd, ye enlighten'd few,
Companions of my social joy!
Though I to foreign lands must hie,
Pursuing fortune's sliddry ba',
With melting heart, and brimful eye,
I'll mind you still, though far awa'.
Oft have I met your social band,
And spent the cheerful festive night;
Oft, honour'd with supreme command,
Presided o'er the sons of light;
And by that hieroglyphic bright,
Which none but craftsmen ever saw!
Strong memory on my heart shall write
Those happy scents when far awa'!
May freedom, harmony, and love,
Unite you in the grand design,
Beneath the omniscient eye above,
The glorious architect divine!
That you may keep th' unerring line,
Still rising by the plummet's law,
Till order bright completely shine—
Shall be my prayer when far awa'.
And you, farewell! whose merits claim,
Justly, that highest badge to wear!
Heaven bliss your honour'd, noble name,
To masonry and Scotia dear!
A last request permit me here,
When yearly ye assemble a',
One round, I ask it with a tear,
To him, the bard, that's far awa'.
Good night and joy.
[James Hogg.]
The year is wearin' to the wane,
An' day is fadin' west awa',
Loud raves the torrent an' the rain,
An' dark the cloud comes down the shaw
But let the tempest tout an' blaw,
Upon his loudest winter horn,
Good night an' joy be wi' you a',
We'll maybe meet again the morn.
O we ha'e wander'd far an' wide,
O'er Scotia's land of firth an' fell,
An' mony a simple flower we've cull'd,
An' twined them wi' the heather-bell:
We've ranged the dingle an' the dell,
The hamlet an' the baron's ha',
Now let us tak' a kind farewell,
Good night an' joy be wi' you a'!
Ye ha'e been kind as I was keen,
An' follow'd where I led the way,
Till ilka poet's lore we've seen
Of this an' mony a former day.
If e'er I led your steps astray,
Forgi'e your minstrel ance for a';
A tear fa's wi' his parting lay—
Good night an' joy be wi' you a'!
