Craigieburn Wd
craigieburn wood
sweet fa's the eve ieburn,
and blythe awakes the morrow;
but a' the pride o' spring's return
yield me nocht but sorrow.
i see the flowers and spreading trees,
i hear the wild birds singing;
but what a weary wight please,
and care his bosing!
fain, fain would i my griefs impart,
yet dare na for yer;
but secret love will break my heart,
if i ceal it langer.
if thou refuse to pity me,
if thou shalt love another,
when yon green leaves fade frae the tree,
around my grave they'll wither.
versicles of 1795
sweet fa's the eve ieburn,
and blythe awakes the morrow;
but a' the pride o' spring's return
yield me nocht but sorrow.
i see the flowers and spreading trees,
i hear the wild birds singing;
but what a weary wight please,
and care his bosing!
fain, fain would i my griefs impart,
yet dare na for yer;
but secret love will break my heart,
if i ceal it langer.
if thou refuse to pity me,
if thou shalt love another,
when yon green leaves fade frae the tree,
around my grave they'll wither.
versicles of 1795