What tho' the snaw-wreath cover thee!
An' frosty hand shall close thy e'e,
Thy young life in adversity
Thus pass awa';
'Tis surely best thou shou'dstna dree[5]
What might befa'.
I wadna hae ye like to me,
Aye fu' o' care for what may be,
Thy glad hour clouding waefully
Wi' threatened ill;
Rather wi' careless thoughts and free,
Thy bright hour fill.
We look behind! wae worth the day!
Aft miry path and feet astray,
Our guiding light a flickering ray,
No frae aboon—
An ignis-fatuus 'mid decay
And earthly gloom.
How aft wi' heart's ain dool[6] opprest;
How aft wi' ithers' pain distrest;
How afttimes pained, how seldom blest;
Joy's fairest bloom
Grows on a slender stem at best,
A touch its doom!
We come but with a fretfu' cry,
A wailfu' note to trouble joy;
We go, and Nature's agony
Doth still attend;
The sinking heart, the weary eye,
Proclaim the end.
We look beyond, and there we dreed!
Frae folly shall we e'er be freed?
We hope, we trust, that there indeed,
In time to come,
We may attain the heavenly creed,
And leal become.
And there, my lammie, like to thee,
Passive and pure, nae mair to be
Assailed wi' doubt or fear that we
Shall lapse or fa',
But evermair frae trouble free,
And earthly thraw.[7]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Weak.
[2] Plenty.