O! hear my ardent, grateful, selfish pray'r! LAMENT FOR JAMES, EARL OF GLENCAIRN. THE wind blew hollow frae the hills, That wav'd o'er Lugar's winding stream: Beneath a craigy steep, a bard, Laden with years and meikle pain, In loud lament bewail'd his lord, Whom death had all untimely taen. He lean'd him to an ancient aik, Whose trunk was mould'ring down with years; His locks were bleached white with time, "Ye scatter'd birds that faintly sing, Again ye'll charm the ear and e'e; "But nocht in all revolving time "Can gladness bring again to me. "I am a bending aged tree, "That long has stood the wind and rain "But now has come a cruel blast, "And my last hold of earth is gane; "Nae leaf o' mine shall greet the spring, "Nae simmer sun exalt my bloom; "But I maun lie before the storm, "And ithers plant them in my room. |