Classic Poem

The Lover's Loan, the Lover's Loan,
Alas! these days have long, long gone,
When filled with hope, and flushed with pride,
I won my young, my gentle bride,
Who like the star of evening shone,
And lit wi' joy the Lover's Loan.

The mavis with his mellow lay,
Would lull asleep the closing day;
The lark with dewy breast would rise
To greet the opening morning skies;
While dreaming, still we wandered on
Along the flower-strewn Lover's Loan.

The velvet sward beneath our feet
Was gemmed with cups and daisies sweet,
While hip in bud, and haw in bloom,
Enriched the air with sweet perfume;
And echo softened every tone,
Love whispered in the Lover's Loan.

And patriots oft would linger here,
To gaze on scenes to patriot dear;
For each surrounding plain and hill
Of Scotland's fame bore witness still,
And told that Freedom's brightest zone
Was woven round the Lover's Loan.

Each bird and flower, each hill and plain,
Shall still inspire the poet's strain,
For Love is now as ever young,
And patriot deeds shall still be sung;
But sad is he who lorn and lone,
Now mateless seeks the Lover's Loan!