Our rugged glens, sae wild, sae fair,
An' lose my sorrowing in prayer!
""Tis but a blow, a shock, a fa',
Frae ane I lo'ed the best of a' ;
The eternal setting o' a star,
A life-lang wound, a buried scar,
A great, where mony sma' anes are,
A strange weird discord, ceaseless jar!
"Sae young, we lo'ed each other too,
Our greatest pride our being true ;
His bonnie e'en sae deeply blue,
They sparkle like twin-draps o' dew;
Tho' kind to a', he lo'ed but few,
Ne'er left an auld friend for a new.
"I'll na' believe him fause, unkind,
His is a leal and faithfu' mind;
I'll ask him if he would unbind
Love's silken fetters, soft an' kind,
An' throw our young dreams to the wind?
Should he say yea, I'll be resign'd!
"Donald, Donald, yer Nannie ca's!
He mauna see the tear that fa's ;
Back, back, back! I wadna weep,
I'll like a sunbeam to him creep,
Surround him wi' a gentle light,
Forgetfu' o' my ain dark night.
"Ah! will he smile or turn awa?
His e'e binks like a blinking star!
His bright red lips, ah! will they part?
Will, will he haud me to his heart,
Infold me wi' his twa strang arms,
An' kiss awa' my wild alarms.
"Yonder he stands! sae brave, sae bright,
A livin' truth in heaven's light!
A braw young oak in Scottish soil,
All radiant wi' his manly toil;
There's nae deceit within his breast,
Lie still, poor heart, and be at rest!"
"Ye're whiter than the silver lily, Tearfu' as the dewy rose ; Stricken as a lanely Robin
In the midst o' winter snows !
"What ails my pure and lovely Nannie?
Why sae trembling, why sae sair?
Hae ye a grief, hae ye a sorrow,
That yer Donald canna share?
"Why turn awa' yer bonnie forehead,
Why this sudden fever flush?
What mental terrors has my Nannie,
That gar the saut tears rise and gush?
"Were I distress'd, I'd seek ye, darlin',
Kennin' weel ye'd share my pain;
An' listenin' to yer consolation,
I soon wad grow right weel again.
"Let's sit doon in this green meadow,
Nestle closer to my side;
My comforter, my blessin', hear me,-
Will Nannie be a poor man's bride?
"Ye ken I've worked baith late an' early,
In simmer, autumn, winter, spring;
I noo can buy a wee bit cottie,—
Leuk here, Nannie, here's the ring!
"Here's white muslin for the bride-gown,
A knot o' lillies for yer hair ;
I'll hae nae bonnet for yer head, Nan,
To hide yer bonnie brow sae fair!
"A wee bit plaidie for yer shoulders,
Sturdy shoon for yer sma' feet;
A snowy apron for our hearth-stane,
A bran new head-gear for the street.
"A can for water frae the well spring,
A steamin' kettle for the hob b;
Cups, platters, spoons, and shinin' tea pot,
Made o' tin, wi' ebony knob.
"A round deal table, and a mirror,
To reflect yer winsome form;
A feather bed, a bolster, pillow,
To keep us in the cauld nights warm.
"Twa chairs for us, an' ane for friendship, A tiny little seat beside
Haud, haud yer saucy tongue, dear Donald!"
Poor Nannie, blushin', laugh'd and cried.
List, mother! listen to my dream!
My heart's too full to speak;
It overflows with happiness,
And tears run down my cheek.
Ah! let me kneel unto thy feet,
Clasp thou mine hands in thine;
Altho' I'm blind, yet have I seen
All nature's bright things shine.
Yes, in my sleep I saw thine eyes,
Those smiling, loving eyes!
Altho' my waking hours be dark,
In sleep bright visions rise.
I saw the sun, the moon, the stars,
Enthron'd in endless space;
And there were fleecy, silv'ry clouds
Of changeful form and grace.
In waking hours I've heard the birds
Pour forth their joyous lay;
But only knew when they were hush'd,
The birds had flown away.
I saw them, mother, in my sleep,
Flying from spray to spray;
Amidst the infant leaves of spring,
They hymn'd the dawning day.
I saw the flowers, the blushing flowers,
Whose colors softly blend;
They were as bright as morn's own light,
Which on them did descend.
And there were streams and grassy fields,
Crag, mountain, hill, and dale;
And all these blending beauties told
One rich, harmonious tale.
My breast could scarcely hold my heart
I felt, I heard, I saw !
The hope of heaven fill'd my soul
More fondly than before!
I woke in stretching forth my hand
To catch a butterfly :
To me 'twas night, altho' 'twas morn—
The vision had pass'd by!
The yearnings of my sadden'd heart
Heaven's pitying angels knew;
So softly in the dreamy hour
My darken'd veil withdrew.
Thou know'st how fair, midst deepest shades,
Faint gleams of bright things are:
How welcome to the wanderer's eye
Shines forth the faintest star.
Dear Mother! words can never tell-
They mar-they but destroy-
The heaven in your blind girl's soul;
They cannot breathe her joy!
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