Classic Poem

I WINNA gae back to my youthfu' haunts,
For they are nae langer fair:
The spoiler has been in the glades sae green,
And sad are the changes there;
The plow has been to the very brink
O' the lovely Locher fa',
And beauty has fled wi' the auld yew tree
And bonnie wee birds awa'.

Young Spring aye cam' the earliest there,
Alang wi' her dear cuckoo,
And gentle Autumn linger'd lang
Wi' her lanely cusha-doo;
And peace aye nestled in ilka nook
O' the bonnie gowany glen,
For it's always Sabbath amang the flowers,
Awa' frae the haunts of men.

How oft hae I paused in thae green retreats
O' the hare and the foggy-bee,
While the lintie lilted to his love
In the budding hawthorn tree;
And the yorlin sang on the whinny-knowe
In the cheery morn o' spring,
And the laverock drapt frae the cloud at e'en
To fauld up her weary wing;

And the mavis sang in the thorny brake,
And the blackbird on the tree,
And the lintwhite told his tale o' love
Far down in the gowany lea;
And the moss and the cress and the crawflow'rs crept
Sae close to the crystal spring,
And the water cam' wi' a lauchin' loup,
And awa' like a livin' thing.

And it sang its way through the green retreats,
In a voice sae sweet and clear,
That the rowan listen'd on the rock,
And the hazel lean'd to hear;
And the water-lilies rais'd their heads,
And the bells in clusters blue,
And the primrose cam' wi' her modest face
A' wet wi' the balmy dew;

And the hoary hawthorn hung its head,
As lapped in a blissfu' dream,
While the honeysuckle strain'd to catch
The murmurs o' that stream;
And the buttercup and the cowslip pale
To the green, green margin drew;
And the gowan cam' and brocht wi' her
The bonnie wee violet blue.

And the red, red rose and the eglantine
And the stately foxglove came,
And mony an' mony a sweet wee flow'r
That has died without a name;
While the burnie brattl'd down the brae
In her ain blithe merry din,
And leapt the rock in a cloud o' spray,
And roar'd in the boiling linn.

And churn'd hersel' into silver white,
Into bubbles green and gay,
And rumbled roun' in a wild delight
'Neath the rainbow's varied ray;
And swirl'd and sank and rose to the brim,
Like the snawdrift on the lea,
And then in bells o' the rainbow's rim
She sang away to the sea.

But the trees are fell'd, and the birds are gane,
And the banks are lane and bare,
And wearily now she drags her lane
With the heavy sough o' care;
And fond lovers there shall meet nae mair,
In the lang, lang simmer's e'en,
To pledge their vows 'neath the spreading boughs
O' the birk and the beech sae green.

But I'll no gae back! I'll no gae back!
For my heart is sick and sair,
And I couldna' bide to see the wreck
O' a place sae sweet and fair.
It wad wauken me, it wad wauken me
Frae boyhood's blissfu' dream,
And ye ne'er could be sae dear to me,
My ain beloved stream.