“But we!—we return!—we return no more!”
The heart’s young dreams, when their spring is o’er;
The love it hath pour’d so freely forth—
The boundless trust in ideal worth;
The faith in affection—deep, fond, yet vain—
These are the lost that return not again!
[395] Ha til!—ha til!—ha til mi tulidle!—“we return!—we return!—we return no more!”—the burden of the Highland song of emigration.
TO A WANDERING FEMALE SINGER.
Thou hast loved and thou hast suffer’d!
Unto feeling deep and strong,