Song: Composed in Spring
AGAIN rejoicing Nature seesHer robe assume its vernal hues:Her leafy locks wave in the breeze,All freshly steep’d in morning dews.
Chorus.—And maun I still on Menie doat,And bear the scorn that’s in her e’e?For it’s jet, jet black, an’ it’s like a hawk,An’ it winna let a body be.
In vain to me the cowslips blaw,In vain to me the vi’lets spring;In vain to me in glen or shaw,The mavis and the lintwhite sing.And maun I still, &c.
The merry ploughboy cheers his team,Wi’ joy the tentie seedsman stalks;But life to me’s a weary dream,A dream of ane that never wauks.And maun I still, &c.
The wanton coot the water skims,Amang the reeds the ducklings cry,The stately swan majestic swims,And ev’ry thing is blest but I.And maun I still, &c.
The sheep-herd steeks his faulding slap,And o’er the moorlands whistles shill:Wi’ wild, unequal, wand’ring step,I meet him on the dewy hill.And maun I still, &c.
And when the lark, ’tween light and dark,Blythe waukens by the daisy’s side,And mounts and sings on flittering wings,A woe-worn ghaist I hameward glide.And maun I still, &c.
Come winter, with thine angry howl,And raging, bend the naked tree;Thy gloom will soothe my cheerless soul,When nature all is sad like me!And maun I still, &c.
Sign in to like, rate and collect poems, and keep track of what you've read.