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John Greenleaf Whittier - A Memory
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Here, while the loom of Winter weaves
The shroud of flowers and fountains,
I think of thee and summer eves
Among the Northern mountains.

When thunder tolled the twilight`s close,
And winds the lake were rude on,
And thou wert singing, _Ca` the Yowes_,
The bonny yowes of Cluden!

When, close and closer, hushing breath,
Our circle narrowed round thee,
And smiles and tears made up the wreath
Wherewith our silence crowned thee;

And, strangers all, we felt the ties
Of sisters and of brothers;
Ah! whose of all those kindly eyes
Now smile upon another`s?

The sport of Time, who still apart
The waifs of life is flinging;
Oh, nevermore shall heart to heart
Draw nearer for that singing!

Yet when the panes are frosty-starred,
And twilight`s fire is gleaming,
I hear the songs of Scotland`s bard
Sound softly through my dreaming!

A song that lends to winter snows
The glow of summer weather,--
Again I hear thee ca` the yowes
To Cluden`s hills of heather
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