I've wandered east, I've wandered west,
I've borne a weary lot;
But in my wanderings, far or near,
Ye never were forgot.
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 [1797-1835]
THE SEA-LANDS
Would I were on the sea-lands,
Where winds know how to sting;
And in the rocks at midnight
The lost long murmurs sing.
Would I were with my first love
To hear the rush and roar
Of spume below the doorstep
And winds upon the door.
My first love was a fair girl
With ways forever new;
And hair a sunlight yellow,
And eyes a morning blue.
The roses, have they tarried
Or are they dun and frayed?
If we had stayed together,
Would love, indeed, have stayed?
Ah, years are filled with learning,
And days are leaves of change!
And I have met so many
I knew... and found them strange.