craigieburn d（1/1）

craigieburn wood

sweet fa's the eve on craigieburn,

and blythe awakes 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 dare na 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 another,

when yon green leaves fade frae the tree,

around my grave they'll wither.

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