My soul langs to be free, John,
And angels wait on me
To the land o’ the leal. 20
Now fare ye weel, my ain John,
This warld’s care is vain, John;
We’ll meet and aye be fain
In the land o’ the leal.
Lady Nairn.
CLXVIII
ELEGY, WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD.
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,