MARTHA PALMER.

I.

Oh dear, dear Martha Palmer!
A' the grief you've gien to me,
It's far beyond my humble power
In words to tell to thee;
But my heart's sae fu' o' sorrow
At the change I've lately seen,

That I canna do but tell you

o't,

I little thought the slanders, love,

Of heartless, envious men,

Could e'er hae poison'd your high mind,

Or made you false; but then

I find the love of woman

Is a frail and quivering reed,
And the heart that doats too fondly,

Is a heart that doats to bleed.

III.

D'ye mind the scenes that we twa had
Since first we met th❜gether;

D'ye mind the vows we made, to live
In love wi' ane an'ither;

D'ye mind the tears we aften shed,

For very bliss and joy

Did you

think then, Martha, did you mean

Our rapture to destroy?

IV.

Oh, how aften did we wander,

When the sun sunk ower the hill,

Down the saugh road, across the burn,
An' by the haunted mill,

Up to the kirk and auld kirkyard,

Which ye would scarcely leaveFor weel ye liked to linger

By the murder'd martyr's grave.

V.

Whiles when we stood frae wind or rain

Beside the auld grey tower,

An' saw the pale moon glimmering
In the solemn midnight hour,

I tauld you warlock stories,
And I've felt ye cling to me,
As if I were your salvation-
Which, indeed, I weel could be.

VI.

And oh, we aften sat, my dear,
Beneath the trysting tree,

Where I made love to you, my dear,
you made love to me.

An'

An' when we baith were left alane,

An' nae intruder near,

We spoke the poems, an' sung the sangs,

That true hearts like to hear.

VII.

Ah then, dear Martha, then this earth

Was paradise to me!

This heart, sae heavy now, was light

When I was lo'ed by thee.

The flowers were bonnie, fields were green;

Frae ilka bush and tree

The birds sang sweetly, very sweet,

When Martha smiled on me.

But now that

you

VIII.

hae left me,

Now that we by fate are parted,

Now that you have sought to live alane,

And I am broken-hearted,—

I see not nature as it was;

The earth, the sun, the sea,

The trees, the birds, the bonnie flowers,

Are naething now to me.

IX.

At midnight like a ghaist I gang;
And, love, 'tween you an' me,
I've fearfu' thoughts o' something,
Which I darena tell to thee.

I weep whiles like a very child,
For a' my hopes are hurl'd
To fell destruction, and I'm left
Alane in this dark world!

X.

You, dearest, have the triumph
Of disdaining, slighting me;
But I would not boast or glory,

Had I done the same thee.

True love should not be scorned;

It is sent from earth to heaven, As the purest and the rarest gift That God to man hath given.

XI.

Fareweel! dear Martha! you may ne'er
Forget me a' th'gither;

And I ken you'll keep your aith to God,
That you'd ne'er wed anither.
If this be sae, I know that when
Frae earth we gang awa,

I'll meet you in a better world,
As pure as winter snaw.