Pour'd a' your gowden tide
O'er sic a brow! sic e'en yon nicht!
Oh, weary Ythanside.
This is the other one in a somewhat different vein, but with equal magic in its melody and tender sweetness of expression:—
WHISPER LOW.
Slowly, slowly the cauld moon creeps
Wi' a licht unloesome to see;
It dwalls on the window whaur my love sleeps,