Song, Composed In Spring

Tune-"Jockey's Grey Breeks."

      Again rejoicing Nature sees      Her robe assume its vernal hues:      Her leafy locks wave in the breeze,      All freshly steep'd in morning dews.       Chorus.-And maun I still on Menie doat,      And bear the scorn that's in her e'e?      For it's jet, jet black, an' it's like a hawk,      An' it winna let a body be.       In vain to me the cowslips blaw,      In vain to me the vi'lets spring;      In vain to me in glen or shaw,      The mavis and the lintwhite sing.      And maun I still, &c.       The merry ploughboy cheers his team,      Wi' joy the tentie seedsman stalks;      But life to me's a weary dream,      A dream of ane that never wauks.      And maun I still, &c.       The wanton coot the water skims,      Amang the reeds the ducklings cry,      The stately swan majestic swims,      And ev'ry thing is blest but I.      And maun I still, &c.       The sheep-herd steeks his faulding slap,      And o'er the moorlands whistles shill:      Wi' wild, unequal, wand'ring step,      I meet him on the dewy hill.      And maun I still, &c.       And when the lark, 'tween light and dark,      Blythe waukens by the daisy's side,      And mounts and sings on flittering wings,      A woe-worn ghaist I hameward glide.      And maun I still, &c.       Come winter, with thine angry howl,      And raging, bend the naked tree;      Thy gloom will soothe my cheerless soul,      When nature all is sad like me!      And maun I still, &c.