FRAGMENT, OF A SCOTTISH BALLAD. Air--"Fingal's Lamentation." ___ “WILD drives the bitter northern blast, Fierce whirling wide the crispy
snaw, Young
Lassie turn your wand’ring steps, For e’ening’s gloom begins to fa’: I’ll
tak’ you to my father’s ha’, An’ shielf you frae the wintry air, For
wand’ring thro’ the drifting snaw, I fear ye’ll sink to rise nae mair.” “Ah! gentle lady, airt my way
Across this longsome, lanely moor, For
he wha’s dearest to my heart, Now waits me on the western shore; With
morn he spreads his outward sail, This night I vow’d to meet him
there, To
tak’ ae secret fond fareweel, We may-be part to meet nae mair.” “Dear
Lassie turn—’twill be your dead! The dreary waste lies far an’ wide; Abide
till morn, an’ then ye’ll hae My father’s
herd-boy for your guide.” “ Impatient love now chides my stay, Yon
rising moon, with kindly beam, Will light me on
my weary way.” *
* * * * * * * Ah!
Donald, wherefore bounds thy heart? Why beams with joy thy wistful e'e ?
Yon’s
but thy true love’s fleeting form, Thy true-love mair thou’lt never see; Deep
in the hollow glen she lies, Amang the snaw, beneath the tree, She
soundly sleeps in death’s cauld arms, A victim to her
love for thee. |