"Oh, do not speak o' death, Jeanie,
Unless that ye would break
The heart that cheerfully would shed
Its life's-blood for your sake;—
For what a dreary blank this world
Would prove to me, I trow,
If ye were sleeping your long sleep
Upon yon cauld green knowe!"
"When I have pass'd from earth, Willie,
E'en sorrow as you will,
Your stricken heart will pleasure seek
In other objects still.
For though, when my worn frame is cauld,
Your grief may be profound.
My very name will soon become
Like a forgotten sound!"
"I'm wae to see the cheek, Jeanie,
That shamed the elder wine,
Now stripp'd o' a' the bloom that told
Your heart's fond love langsyne.
But do not, Jeanie Sanderson,
Come owre your death to me:
It's pain enow to see you look
So sad on a' you see."
"I'm dying on my feet, Willie,
Whate'er you'd have me say;
And my last hour on earth, I feel,
Draws nearer every day.
Nor can ye with false hopes deceive;
For ne'er can summer's heat
Restore the early blighted flower
That's crush'd aneath your feet."
"Oh, bring once more to mind, Jeanie,
The happiness we've seen,
When at the gloaming's tranquil fa'
We sought the loaning green.
Ye ken how oft I came when ye
Sat eerie, love, at hame,
And tapp'd at that bit lattice, whiles—
Your ain true Willie Grahame!"
"It's like a vanish'd dream, Willie,
The memory o' the past,
And oft I've thought our happiness
Owre great at times to last.
Alas! your coming now I watch
In sickness and in pain;
But will ye seek my mother's door
When once that I am gane?"
"You're harbouring thoughts o' me, Jeanie.
It's wrong for you to breathe;
For oh, is wretchedness the gift
To me ye would bequeath?
I've ne'er through life loved ane but you;
And must the hopes o' years
Be rooted from my heart at once,
And quench'd in bitter tears?"
"Ye stand 'tween me and heaven, Willie,
Yet, oh, I do not blame,
Nor seek to wound the feeling heart,
Whose love was aye the same.
But love is selfish to the last,
And I should like to wear
The locket round my neck, when gane,
That holds my Willie's hair!"
"It cuts me to the heart, Jeanie,
To see you thus give way
To trouble ye are forcing on,
For a' your freends can say.
And do ye think that I could e'er
To others passion vow,
Were death to break the link that binds
Our hearts so closely now?"
"It may be that long time, Willie,
Will teach you to forget,
Nor leave within your breast—for me—
One feeling o' regret.
But, should you fold another's heart
To yours with fond regard,
Oh, think on her who then shall lie
Happ'd up in yon kirkyard!"