Classic Poem

We lay all night in Witch's Linn
Beside the Lewis Burn,
And heard the whispering of the wind
Among the withered fern.

We lay all night in Witch's Linn
Beneath the staring stars,
And the yellow horn of the old moon hung
Beyond the naked scars.

We lay all night in Witch's Linn
Till morn broke bleak and grey—
O that my heart had ceased to beat
Before the blink of day!

For evermore in Witch's Linn
I hear the Lewis Burn,
And the whispering, whispering, whispering wind
Among the withered fern.