Recreations for Solitary Hours
(Written At The Age Of Thirteen.)
Oh! now ye're far awa my love,
Ye're far awa frae me,
O'er woodland glens, and rocky dens,
And o'er the raging sea.
I stand upon the sandy shore,
The lofty hills behind,
I spy the distant ship afar,
That's driven with the wind.
I see the waves around her rise,
Ten thousand billows roar;
The foaming surges lash the skies,
Behind her and before.
page 90 Unto the winds I give a sigh,
Unto the waves a tear;
Up to the skies I send my cry,
For her my dearest dear.
Kind Providence, oh! hear my voice,
Oh! wilt thou her life save,
Oh! keep her from the sunken rocks,
And from a wat'ry grave.
For though she's borne awa frae me,
Across the raging main,
Our hapless loves may yet revive,
Were we to meet again.