Page:Burns's songs.pdf/3

3

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 every thing is blest but I,
And maun I still, &c.

The sheep-herd steeks his faulding slap,
And owre the moorlands whistles shrill,
Wi’ wild, unequal, wand’ring step,
I meet him on the dewy hills.
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.

(illegible text) Winter, with thine angry howl,
And raging bend the naked tree;
(illegible text) gloom will soothe my cheerless soul,
When nature all is sad like me!

And maun I still on Menie doat,
And bear the scorn that’s in her e'e?
For it’s jet, jet black, and it’s like a hawk,
And it winna let a body be.