The fount that first burst frae this heart
Still travels on its way;
And channels deeper, as it rins,
The luve o' life's young day.
O dear, dear Jeanie Morrison,
Since we were sindered young
I've never seen your face nor heard
The music o' your tongue;
But I could hug all wretchedness,
And happy could I dee,
Did I but ken your heart still dreamed
O' bygane days and me!
WILLIAM MOTHERWELL.
O, SAW YE BONNIE LESLIE?
O, saw ye bonnie Leslie
As she gaed o'er the border?
She's gane, like Alexander,
To spread her conquests farther.
To see her is to love her,
And love but her forever;
For nature made her what she is,
And ne'er made sic anither!
Thou art a queen, fair Leslie,
Thy subjects we, before thee;
Thou art divine, fair Leslie,
The hearts o' men adore thee.
The deil he could na scaith thee,
Or aught that wad belang thee;
He'd look into thy bonnie face,
And say, "I canna wrang thee!"
The Powers aboon will tent thee;
Misfortune sha' na steer[4] thee;
Thou'rt like themselves sae lovely
That ill they 'll ne'er let near thee.
Return again, fair Leslie,
Return to Caledonie!
That we may brag we hae a lass
There's nane again sae bonnie.
ROBERT BURNS.
[4] Harm.
THE RUSTIC LAD'S LAMENT IN THE TOWN.
O, wad that my time were owre but,
Wi' this wintry sleet and snaw,
That I might see our house again,
I' the bonnie birken shaw!
For this is no my ain life,
And I peak and pine away
Wi' the thochts o' hame and the young flowers,
In the glad green month of May.
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