Classic Poem

There's a drap o' dew on the blackbird's wing
Where the willows wave the burnie over,
And the happy bird its sang doth sing
By the wimpling waves that the green leaves cover!
Sing louder yet, thou bonnie, bonnie bird,
There's neither cloud nor storm to fear ye,
But thy sang, though glad as ear ever heard,
Is wae to mine when I meet my dearie!

Yon laverock lilts 'mang the snawy clouds
That float like a veil o'er the breast of heaven;
And its strain comes down to the summer woods
Like the voice of the bless'd and God -forgiven!
Sing, laverock, sing thy maist holy sang,
For the light o' heaven is round and near ye,
Syne song through thy fluttering heart will gang,
As it runs through mine when I meet my dearic!

The daisy blinks by the broom-bush side,
Pure as the eye' o' a gladsome maiden—
Fair as the face o' a bonnie bride
When her heart wi' the thoughts o' love is laden.
Bloom fairer yet, thou sweet lowly flower,
There's ne'er a heart sae hard as steer thee,
I will think o' thee in that gloaming hour
When I meet 'mang the wild green woods my dearie;