Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916.
The Widows LamentJames Hogg (17701835)
O
Even in thy winding-sheet!
I canna leave thy comely clay,
An’ features calm an’ sweet.
I have no hope but for the day
That we shall meet again,
Since thou art gone, my bonnie boy,
An’ left me here alane.
Shall fresher rise to view;
The leaf, just fallen frae the tree,
The year will soon renew:
But lang may I weep o’er thy grave,
Ere thou reviv’st again,
For thou art fled, my bonnie boy,
An’ left me here alane!