An' O! my broken he'rt was sair,
I cried, "My ain! my doo'!
For a' thae weans the licht burns fair,
But it winna' burn for you!"
She smiled to me, my little Jean,
Said she, "The dule and pain,
O mither! frae your waefu' een
They strike on me again:
"For ither babes the flame leaps bricht
And fair and braw appears,
But I canna keep my bonnie licht,
For it's droukit wi' your tears!"
There blew across my outstreeked hand
The white mist o' her sark,
But I couldna reach yon babie band
For it faded i' the dark.
My ain, my dear, your licht shall burn
Although my een grow blind,
Although they twa to saut should turn
Wi' the tears that lie behind.
O Jeanie, on my bended knee
I'll pray I may forget,
My grief is a' that's left to me,
But there's something dearer yet!
THE LAD I' THE MUNE
I
O gin I lived i' the gowden mune
Like the mannie that smiles at me,
I'd sit a' nicht in my hoose abune
An the wee-bit stars they wad ken me sune,
For I'd sup my brose wi' a gowden spune
And they wad come out to see!