That tender flowret all alone;
To see no more his face of joy,
And soothe no more his infant moan!
But see along the mountains side,
And by the pleasant banks of Larney,
Straight o’er the plains, and woodlands wide,
By Castle Brae, and Lock Macharney:
See how the sorrowing neighbours throng.
With haggard looks and faultering breath;
And as they slowly wind along,