A Widow’s Wail.
“ Oh thou art lovely yet, my boy,1
Even in thy winding-sheet ;2
I canna leave thy comely clay,3
An’ features calm an’ sweet !4
I have no hope but for the day5
That we shall meet again,6
Since thou art gone, my bonny boy,7
An’ left me here alane !8
I hoped thy sire’s loved form to see,9
To trace his looks in thine ;10
An’ saw with joy thy sparkling ee11
With kindling vigour shine !12
I thought, when auld an’ frail, I might13
Wi’ you an’ yours remain ;14
But thou art fled, my bonny boy,15
An’ left me here alane !16
Now closed an’ set thy sparkling eye,17
Thy kind wee heart is still,18
An’ thy dear spirit far away19
Beyond the reach of ill !20
Ah ! fain wad I that comely clay21
Reanimate again ;22
But thou art fled, my bonny boy,23
An’ left me here alane !24
The flower now fading on the lea25
Shall fresher rise to view—26
The leaf just falling from the tree27
The year will soon renew :28
But lang may I weep o’er thy grave29
Ere thou reviv’st again ;30
For thou art fled, my bonny boy,31
An’ left me here alane !”32