ever be my dearie.
II.
Lassie, say thou lo'es me;
Or if thou wilt no be my ain,
Say na thou'lt refuse me:
If it winna, canna be,
Thou, for thine may choose me,
Let me, lassie, quickly die,
Trusting that thou lo'es me.
Lassie, let me quickly die,
Trusting that thou lo'es me.
* * * * *
CCXVI.
BUT LATELY SEEN.
Tune--"_The winter of life._"
[This song was written for Johnson's Museum, in 1794: the air is East
Indian: it was brought from Hindostan by a particular friend of the
poet. Thomson set the words to the air of Gil Morrice: they are
elsewhere set to the tune of the Death of the Linnet.]
I.
But lately seen in gladsome green,
The woods rejoiced the day;
Thro' gentle showers and laughing flowers,
In double pride were gay:
But now our joys are fled
On winter blasts awa!
Yet maiden May, in rich array,
Again shall bring them a'.
II.
But my white pow, nae kindly thowe
Shall melt the snaws of age;
My trunk of eild, but buss or bield,
Sinks in Time's wintry rage.
Oh! age has weary days,
And nights o' sleepless pain!
Thou golden time o' youthfu' prime,
Why comes thou not again?
* * * * *
CCXVII.
TO MARY.
Tune--"_Could aught of song._"
[These verses, inspired partly by Hamilton's very tender and elegant
song,
"Ah! the poor shepherd's mournful fate,"
and some unrecorded "Mary" of the poet's heart, is in the latter
volumes of Johnson. "It is inserted in Johnson's Museum," says Sir
Harris Nicolas, "with the name of Burns attached." He might have added
that it was sent by Burns, written with his own hand.]
I.
Could aught of song declare my pains,
Could artful numbers move thee,
The muse should tell, in labour'd strains,
O Mary, how I love thee!
They who but feign a wounded heart
May teach the lyre to languish;
But what avails the pride of art,
When wastes the soul with anguish?
II.
Then let the sudden bursting sigh
The heart-felt pang discover;
And in the keen, yet tender eye,
O read th' imploring lover.
For well I know thy gentle mind
Disdains art's gay disguising;
Beyond what Fancy e'er refin'd,
The voice of nature prizing.
* * * * *
CCXVIII.
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