The Book of Scottish Song/Carle Time

Carle Time.

[William Fergusson.—Here first printed.]

O! carle Time, auld carle Time,
My blessin' I'd gi'e thee,
Gin ye would turn your face, and bring
Back by-gane days to me:—
Bring back the lang, lang sunny days,
When youth an' hope were mine,
Wi' a' the friends I lo'ed an' lost,
In days o' lang syne.

O! kindly carle, dinna gloom,
But leave your onward track,
For through the mist o' forty years
I fondly wad gang back:—
I'll leave behind my lade o' care,
And, light o' heart and limb,
I'll follow you through early scenes,
By distance now made dim.

O! lead me to the dear loved spot,
Where childhood's hours were spent,
Where misery was but a name,
And toil was scarcely kent;
Where pleasures hung in clusters round,
Like blossoms on the tree;
And a' the world I saw, appear'd
A paradise to me!

And, gentle carle, let me sit
An hour by that auld chair,
That bore my mother lang, and see
My kindly mother there—
O, Time! I'd gi'e you a' I'm worth,
Or ever like to be,
For ae look o' that blessed face,
Sair worn wi' grief for me!

And, carle, there's a birken bower,
O' early love the scene—
Cleed, cleed again its wither'd boughs,
Wi' leaves o' glossy green:—
And, O! bring back to meet me there,
Frae out the darksome tomb,
My early-lost, my bonnie bride,
In a' her maiden bloom.

O! cruel carle, I plead in vain—
Ye leave me to my fate;
Wi' moody brow, and eident step,
Ye keep your onward gate:
But carle Time, auld carle Time,
My blessin' I'd gi'e thee,
Gin ye would turn your face, and bring
Back by-gane days to me.

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