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Robert Burns - Craigieburn Wood
Work rating: Low

Sweet fa`s the eve on Craigieburn,
     And blythe awakens the morrow,
But a` the pride o` spring`s return
     Can yield me nocht but sorrow.

I see the flowers and spreading trees,
     I hear the wild birds singing;
But what a weary wight can please,
     And care his bosom wringing?

Fain, fain would I my griefs impart,
     Yet darena for your anger`
But secret love will break my heart,
     If I conceal it langer.

If thou refuse to pity me,
     If thou shalt love anither,
When yon green leaves fade frae the tree,
     Around my grave they`ll wither.
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