Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
445 . The Minstel at Lincluden
A
Where the wa’flow’r scents the dery air,
Where the howlet mourns in her ivy bower,
And tells the midnight moon her care.
Lamenting our lads beyond the sea: In the bluidy wars they fa’, and our honour’s gane an’ a’, And broken-hearted we maun die. The stars they shot along the sky; The tod was howling on the hill, And the distant-echoing glens reply. A lassie all alone, &c. Was rushing by the ruin’d wa’, Hasting to join the sweeping Nith, Whase roarings seem’d to rise and fa’. A lassie all alone, &c. Her lights, wi’ hissing, eerie din, Athort the lift they start and shift, Like Fortune’s favours, tint as win. A lassie all alone, &c. Her horn the pale-faced Cynthia rear’d, When lo! in form of Minstrel auld, A stern and stalwart ghaist appear’d. A lassie all alone, &c. Might rous’d the slumbering Dead to hear; But oh, it was a tale of woe, As ever met a Briton’s ear! A lassie all alone, &c. He, weeping, wail’d his latter times; But what he said-it was nae play, I winna venture’t in my rhymes. A lassie all alone, &c.