Complete Songs Of Robert Burns - online book

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VII. PATRIOTIC AND POLITICAL            253
O Logan, sweetly didst thou glide That day I was my Willie's bride, And years sinsyne hae o'er us run Like Logan to the simmer sun: But now thy flowery banks appear Like drumlie Winter, dark and drear, While my dear lad maun face his faes Far, far frae me and Logan braes.
Again the merry month of May
Has made our hills and vallies gay ;
The birds rejoice in leafy bowers,
The bees hum round the breathing flowers;
Blythe morning lifts his rosy eye,
And evening's tears are tears o' joy :
My soul delightless a' surveys,
While Willie's far frae Logan braes.
Within yon milk-white hawthorn bush, Amang her nestlings sits the thrush ; Her faithfu' mate will share her toil, Or wi' his song her cares beguile: But I wi' my sweet nurslings here, Nae mate to help, nae mate to cheer, Pass widow'd nights and joyless days, While Willie's far frae Logan braes.
O, wae upon you, Men o' State, That brethren rouse in deadly hate ! As ye make monie a fond heart mourn, Sae may it on your heads return! Ye mindna 'mid your cruel joys The widow's tears, the orphan's cries, But soon may peace bring happy days, And Willie hame to Logan braes!






E-Book - An Annotated Compendium of Old Time American Songs by James Alverson III