The Book of Scottish Song/I dream'd I lay

I dream'd I lay.

["These two stanzas," says Burns, "I composed when I was about seventeen. They are among the oldest of my printed pieces." They are given in Johnson's Museum, adapted to an old air harmonized by Stephen Clarke.]

I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing,
Gaily in the sunny beam;
List'ning to the wild birds singing,
By a falling, crystal stream:
Straight the sky grew black and daring;
Through the woods the whirlwinds rave;
Trees with aged arms were warring
O'er the swelling, drumlie wave.

Such was my life's deceitful morning,
Such the pleasures I enjoy'd:
But lang or noon, loud tempests storming
A' my flow'ry bliss destroy'd.
Though fickle fortune has deceiv'd me,
She promis'd fair, and perform'd but ill;
Of mony a joy and hope bereav'd me,
I bear a heart shall support me still.

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