—Careless of the twilight ground,
O’er the wood and o’er the stream
Still he sails, with hollow sound
Strange, as in a dream!
SPRIGS O’ HEATHER.
I.
TO COMIN’ YEARS.
Here’s awa’ wi’ bairnies’ fears!
Here’s a health to comin’ years!
They maun bring me smiles wi’ tears;