(1759-1796 / Ayrshire / Scotland)

Carigieburn Wood

Sweet fa's the eve on Craigieburn,
And blythe awakens the morrow,
But a' the pride o' spring's return
Can yield me nocht but sorrow.

I see the flowers and spreading trees,
I hear the wild birds singing;
But what a weary wight can please,
And care his bosom wringing?

Fain, fain would I my griefs impart,
Yet darena for your anger'
But secret love will break my heart,
If I conceal it langer.

If thou refuse to pity me,
If thou shalt love anither,
When yon green leaves fade frae the tree,
Around my grave they'll wither.

User Rating: 3,0 / 5 ( 70 votes ) 6

Comments (6)

I know someone couldna a cared less for his anger.
He knew how to write and bare his heart. The rhythm is so there, pulsing in every line.... like a heartbeat
Beautifully written poem......
An astounding poem to show the hovering and grief of losing his love.Love is nature here and its lack is explained in a striking manner.
I see the flowers! ! And the ways opf nature. Thanks for sharing.
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